


Black Sheep

by lovecraftbitchcraft



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series), Helluva Boss (Web Series)
Genre: 1990s, Alternate Universe - 1990s, Alternate Universe - Human, Angel Dust-Typical Sexual Content (Hazbin Hotel), Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Asexual Relationship, Biracial Character, Blood and Violence, Bottom Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Canon Asexual Character, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Gay Sex, Human Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Human Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Italian Mafia, Kindred Spirits, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, NPD, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Poor Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prostitution, RadioDust Week, Serial Killer Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Sex Worker Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Shameless Smut, Soulmates, radiodust - Freeform, slow burn kind of, toxic masculinity is bad for everyone i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:28:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 63,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26095612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovecraftbitchcraft/pseuds/lovecraftbitchcraft
Summary: In Las Vegas, Nevada a chief mob officer is found dead. The disgraced son of crime boss Henry Moretti was indirectly responsible. A not so innocent bystander is a key witness. Alastor knows he has to keep running in order to live free. Angel’s addiction and profession hinder him from running anywhere. They both have something the other needs. Will they realize that giving to one another will give them the satisfaction they’ve always deserved?(SlOWLY UPDATING TO ADD ILLUSTRATIONS :P)TW: Self Harm, Rough Intercourse, Non-con, Violence, Drug addiction
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust/Valentino (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 105





	1. Creep

**Author's Note:**

> When you were here before  
> Couldn't look you in the eye  
> You're just like an angel  
> Your skin makes me cry
> 
> You float like a feather  
> In a beautiful world  
> I wish I was special  
> You're so fuckin' special  
> But I'm a creep  
> I'm a weirdo  
> What the hell am I doing here?  
> I don't belong here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ALASTOR COMES TO TOWN BBY. Also Angel killed this man. It's his fault lol.   
> TW: SELF HARM I DIDN'T EVEN REALIZE UNTIL I STARTED WRITING CHAPTER ELEVEN WHY AM I DESENSITIZED I'M SO SORRY EVERYONE FORGIVE ME ENJOY

****

* * *

**ANGEL, JULY 26TH 1998 12:33 AM**

Angel didn’t mean for it to happen. Jaws was supposed to be a caporegime. Despite being in the closet Angel liked a little fun with him now and then. Top in the streets, bottom in the sheets. Angel adored a nice masculine queen. Tonight they’d snorted PCP in their monotonous ritual. Must’ve been a bad batch because instead of Jaws lubing himself up? He was convulsing on the floor of the sleazy room. White foam bubbled from his now pallid lips. Jaws’ index middle finger twitched as the spasms came to a bitter end. A devastated gasp passed his lips. Angel’s hands went to cover his mouth with urgency. It was too late. The sound had escaped. So he placed a gentle hand on Jaws’ high cheek bone. The older man had gone limp. He looked up at the open curtains of the yellow tinted motel window. “Fuck.” Angel couldn’t cry. He didn’t have it in him anymore. He wasn’t even sure what he’d do next. Leave the body? Try to hide it? Turn himself in to the pigs or worse his dad? What would Valentino do if he found out? Crimson blood trickled from Jaws’ nostril. He was always such a hottie. Not anymore. At least he died before he could ever look anything less than perfect. Angel raked his ghetto clawed fingers through his white hair. Tears were coming regardless of his hollow heart. When he shifted his focus he saw a young man staring in. He was incredibly handsome. Swarthy skin with magnetic dark brown eyes. He dressed retro for someone of a his age, he assumed. He clutched his misshapen ice bucket yet his smile remained. Bright pearly whites hypnotizing Angel utterly. Once the man realized he was spotted his ice bucket and all the clear cubes inside cascaded to the floor. The tall, dark and handsome stranger spoke but Angel heard nothing. He could only assume it was appall or panic.

* * *

**ALASTOR, JULY 25th 1998, 7:00 AM**

Check in at Vegas Castle was at ten o’ clock. He was sure to beat that. Punctuality was essential. It wasn’t a rule but it was required. It was what was proper. Alastor had no intention in staying long but to let down his bag and get a feel for the town was desired. A stuffed animal above the door chortled as he pushed the door open. A young woman with long dark hair and tawny skin rested her head on her hand at the counter. He noted her grungy style. Kids and their fashion crazes. A silver pinned name tag was on her green flannel shirt. It read: “Vaggie” He rose a black gloved hand to tap the desk bell gently with the bottom base of his fingers. With a confident grin and overwhelming grace he rang the bell. He did it four more times for good measure. On his fifth he sped up the taps. The desk attendant’s hand immediately pushed the bell off the counter as she glared up at him.

“Good morning-” He proclaimed with a grin. He purposefully leaned in to her bosom to observe the name. Her visual annoyance rewarded his brain with dopamine. “Vag-eene?” Alastor spoke slowly as he narrowed his eyes. He adjusted his large circular glasses purposefully. Vaggie crossed her arms over her chest instantly.

“It’s Vaggie.” She corrected irately.

“Oh yes of course, of course. Pardon me!” Alastor laughed. “I’m Alastor Bizoton De Le Motte. I made a reservation to lodge in this fine establishment!” His waved his hand dramatically at the drab pathetic lobby. The red striped wallpaper was faded and peeling. Vaggie blinked slowly at him. She sluggishly opened the guest book.

“You’re too early.” Vaggie murmured. She tossed the guest book aside audibly. Her eyes remained fixed to the magazine she was reading. “Why yes! I am!” Alastor agreed. He smugly eyed her then rested his elbows on the surface of her workspace.

“Well this isn’t a hotel. It’s a shitty motel. The shitty room we have for you isn’t ready yet.” She elaborated.

“Oh my.” He furrowed his brow. “Isn’t there a room you can put me in until my time then?” Alastor tilted his head. His stringy brown hair shifted slightly on the top of his head. Not quite curly or straight.

“Honestly?” She groaned. Vaggie slammed a key on the counter. He chuckled.

“Thank you darling, you SHAN’T regret this!” Alastor’s thin frame leaned over. His gloved hand pinched Vaggie’s cheek. He squeezed with a considerable amount of strength. All to illicit just the right reaction. She scowled. Perfect. His fingers snatched the key. In gold raised numbers the room was 127 marked on it.

“Listen dude, you gotta be out of there when we call the room. We’re shifting residents and we want the rooms that aren’t completely awful to be available.” She instructed. “And um… Is that your bag?” Alastor glanced over to the solitary suitcase. Medium sized, red tartan with four rolling wheels.

“Yes, yes it is.” He replied. “Will the bell boy be along soon?” Alastor turned to face Vaggie again. She stared at him vacantly.

“There isn’t a bell boy...” she sighed. Vaggie forced a smile onto her face as she sat up straight. Alastor gave a curt nod and went towards the door. He pulled his bag along with him.

“I’ll be along shortly for the international breakfast!” Alastor rose his free hand and waved it with finesse.

“There isn’t breakfast either!” her yell quieted as the door closed behind him. Alastor walked along the beige walkway. It wasn’t a castle at all in shape. That had to be a gimmick. It was a standard motel. Exterior elevator bank beside a winding concrete staircase. Someone attempted a black and red color scheme but didn’t bother to manage it. The doors of the rooms clashed with the color anyway. He whistled he strode past the various rooms. The establishment had character. It was a living entity. He walked by an open door, a woman with in a silk robe and a cigarette in hand inhaled deeply. A gaggle of colorful characters were present in the parking lot. A few males and young women. The girls were scantily clad. The men had a more casual look. He stopped to observe the group then looked to his dark red coupe de ville parked a few paces away. He shrugged his shoulders and resumed his stride. Alastor’s skinny fit pinstripe slacks swished against each other as he turned the corner. He patted his vest pocket before realizing the keys were already in his hand. Room 127, right beside the ice machine. At last. He shoved the key into the slot then turned it. A firm push opened the door. The pungent smell of copper and urine went to his nostrils. This was one of the better rooms? Alastor carefully placed his suitcase on the bed then scurried around the room. Gathering up the cloth towels. He then gently closed the door with his foot. He rotely confirmed that it was locked then turned his brunette head to affirm shut curtains. Slow rumbles came from the zipper while he opened his suitcase. Alastor unpacked his bag methodically. He spread the towel on the bed. First his leather bound journal was placed onto the coarse surface of the ancient towel. The pages frayed every which way. It was weathered. He kept it with him since he left Louisiana. A potpourri of scribbles were inside. It was an artifact for venting, a very specific day planner. Dry brown leather that was bound by a large belt that wrapped around it. A lock similar to the journals that little fillies owned. Except the silver buckle of the belt was wide. It wasn’t an easy object to pry open. Some would say it was his manifesto. Alastor wasn’t stupid. He didn’t write his name inside. Still it was extremely personal. His journal was more of his own personal record. Next was his black handled knife sharpener. It laid flat on the towel. The tip pointed to the bathroom. His index finger straightened the sharpener. The black handle facing him. Next was his case of knives. It wasn’t time to open that. He had other provisions. Alastor’s mind reviewed his essential rules as he carefully rolled up the sleeves of his black collared shirt. First his fingers unbuttoned at the wrists of the sleeves.

_Never chase an escaped victim_

Alastor ensured that his right sleeve was rolled up seamlessly and neat. Sure, scars lined his arm. People seldom saw them.

_Never go after children_

_Do not dignify failure by making it a possibility_

_There is no need to sexually defile a victim_

He finished rolling up his remaining sleeve then strode to the television. His gloved finger pressed the power button. Ghastly thing, probably responsible for decaying the brains of anyone who watched. Regardless he required a certain kind of sound to continue. He pulled out an unlabeled VHS and pushed it into the motel player. After a few groans and whirrs the tape began. He could finally park at the edge of the bed. It was hard on his rear end. The video played in the background while he fidgeted. A blonde woman whimpered on the screen, naked, tied up. Hands explored her body. Dirt encrusted fingernails scratched her hip then ripped her lace underwear. Was it pornography? A snuff film? Alastor wasn’t sure and he didn’t care. It was just part of the routine. He opened his black case and three knives sat in order of height. As he grabbed the shortest one he prepared to slide the sharpener along the edge. The woman on the television shrieked in pain. The flickering lights of the television illuminated his face. Who would be next? Maybe one of the lewd women outside in the parking lot? On the other hand it wouldn’t be too good if people noticed they were missing. He shook his head. Alastor would figure out who his next would be soon enough. When he was just about done with sharpening he always dragged the blade horizontally on his forearm. A thin line of red bubbled at the incision. He managed a slight raise of his shoulders. A close up of a latex gloved hand strangled the victim, porn star, whatever- was now showing. Alastor didn’t blink as he watched. The corners of his lips however remained upturned, smirking in the darkness. His favorite part was coming up. Alastor needed to find someone as soon as possible. He of course was up to the task. He had already killed about five people on his way to the west coast. Alastor wasn’t concerned. He was more than proficient. In a city of sin, who would bat an eye?

_Never stop smiling_


	2. Self Esteem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I'll relate this a little bit  
> That happens more than I'd like to admit  
> Late at night she knocks on my door  
> She's drunk again and looking to score  
> Now I know I should say no  
> But that's kind of hard when she's ready to go  
> I may be dumb  
> But I'm not a dweeb  
> I'm just a sucker with no self-esteem

**ALASTOR, JULY 25 th 1998, **

**9:31 AM**

A shrill ring came from the phone. Alastor had just finished up his sharpening and had begun putting his things away. He lifted his head as he buttoned the wrist of his shirt. He smugly strolled to the receiver and lifted it to his ear.

“Hello!” He greeted cheerfully.

“I hope you didn’t get too comfortable. Your room for your stay is actually ready.” A soft and sweet voice declared.

“I just finished freshening up.” Alastor said. “Why Vaggeene! You seem to have gotten into a better humor since I last spoke to you!” His eyebrows lowered and he leaned in eagerly. He waited for her annoyed answer.

“Oh this isn’t Vaggie, this is Charlie. I’m sorry. She had to step out.” The female said.

“Oh.” He sounded cheery but his eyes widened. 

“So Mister Motte, if you don’t mind coming back to the lobby to return the key? If that is too much trouble we can send staff over?” She offered. He continued to smirk. Alastor hummed while glancing at the dirty ceiling.

“Well-" The door slammed open. It bounced off the wall as a lumbering figure stood in the doorway. Alastor cocked his head in the direction of the sound.

“Clear out and leave the key on the table.” A dejected grating voice ordered.

“It is customary to knock my good man!” Alastor attempted to retort. The suited man wasn’t having any of it. Alastor in turn tried to put all of his things away before questions could be asked.

“Will you get a move on? C’mon! Time is money!” he shouted.

“Just a moment sir.” Alastor trailed off in a condescending tone. “I suppose your next tenant is taking their place in room one twenty seven? There is a quite uncouth man here, trying his best to strong arm me I must add.” He talked into the phone receiver once more.

“Oh right, I’m sorry about that. Just come to the lobby. We’ll get you situated. Again I’m so sorry!” Alastor hung up the phone rather violently. The bell mechanism inside rattled from the impact. Instead of scowling he stalked past the taller man. He hovered over Alastor and periodically glanced at his beeper. Sunglasses blocked his eyes. A wife beater and baggy jeans were his uniform. Alastor scoffed as he finished up packing his things. He unhurriedly zipped his bag. That anxious pit in his stomach lingered. If this annoying jackass wasn’t there he could double check. He liked to check things at least twice.

“Don’t get a bee in your bonnet.” Alastor declared. His eyebrows knitted. He hoisted his suitcase off the bed. His leather gloved hand held it by its handle.

“Fuck you!” The giant man bellowed. Alastor began to cackle as he slinked past him. “The fuck is so funny you little creep?” He felt the other fellow’s hand grip his shoulder. His smile twitched and his eyes squinted. Alastor swung his bag at the impatient man’s arm. Certainly that made it clear that he didn’t like being touched. The gentleman wasn’t pleased at all. He nursed his arm. “You’re gonna regret that. You’ll regret fucking with Valentino. I promise.” He murmured. Alastor released another hearty laugh.

“Sir, I regret nothing!” he chortled with a quirk of his eyebrows. He resumed rolling his bag along behind him. He spun the room key around his index finger then let it fall to the floor. Alastor proceeded to hum with glee as he exited room 127. A new pep in his step. His next target wasn’t such a mystery anymore.

* * *

**ANGEL, JULY 26 th 1998**

**12:45 AM**

His lower lip quivered as he stared at the stranger. A second didn’t pass before he watched the swarthy man walk away in the other direction. As if he’d seen nothing. Angel desperately stood and jogged after him. The toe of his platform sandals caught in the carpet. His hand clutched the door knob to stop him from toppling. He swung the door open. Picking up his feet as he jogged. The man had already rounded the corner past the ice machine towards the front of the building.

“Wait please-“ he caught up with to him. “You’re not gonna call the police are ya?” Angel frowned as he rubbed his nails against each other.

“Now why would I want to do that?” The brunette stranger replied. His voice low and threatening yet he grinned. Angel furrowed his brows.

“Listen I don’t want you to narc on me is all-“

“Shhh.” He placed his index finger on Angel’s lips. Angel’s immediate response was to scrunch up his face with disgust. He leaned backward but the man only stepped unnervingly closer. “I have no desire to tattle on you.” He murmured to him. “Now, I am terribly sorry but I must get going.” Angel wanted to grab the guy’s arm before he ran off. Just to beg for some semblance of help but both of them were distracted by a loud shriek. Angel’s stomach dropped. One of the housekeepers of the motel must’ve seen the mobster’s corpse. It’s not as if he closed the door behind him while running behind the guy who witnessed it.

“What kind of fucking housekeeper cleans at night?” he inquired to himself loudly. The dapper stranger clasped his gloved hand over Angel’s mouth. His other arm pulled him by his waist. He dragged him around the corner despite his height. Angel wasn’t sure what was happening. Or how this guy was so strong.The bottom of his sandals scratched loudly against the concrete until he was in the disgusting elevator. The lights above them flickered. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Angel whispered when he was released.

“Shh!” The man pressed the door close button then the emergency stop button. “Do you trust me?” He looked Angel over in the darkness.

“What?”

“I asked if you trust me?” he asked again. Angel stared skeptically at him and took in a deep breath.

“Yes?” Angel replied awkwardly.

“I’m Alastor. It’s a pleasure.” He whispered and held his hand out for a shake. Angel instead gave slapped him five. Alastor audibly sighed then leaned on the steel wall of the elevator.

“Angel.” He said as he pointed to himself with his thumb. He attempted to pull down his mini skirt. His white bangs fell over his eyes while doing so.

“I must say, it isn’t very becoming of a young lady, getting herself in such trouble-“

“I’m a guy fuckface.” Angel groaned. He pulled on his fuzzy pink jacket.

“Many Pardons.” He said. Angel responded with a roll of his eyes. Alastor cleared his throat and turned his back to Angel. Angel pursed his lips.

“So what’s your great fucking plan Smiles?”

“Are you familiar with the protocol?”

“Of what? Accidentally killing my fuck buddy? No. I have to admit it doesn’t happen often.” Angel hovered above Alastor and placed his hands on his hips. His gaze narrowing irritably. Alastor turned around once more. There was that grating smile. He held his stomach as he attempted to laugh quietly. Alastor began to wheeze. Angel’s expression remained.

“Oh, you are hilarious.” He lifted his circular glasses and wiped one of his eyes. “No my dear. The protocol for corpses.” Alastor’s snickering finally ceased. He didn’t give Angel an opportunity to reply. “You see, once the housekeeper calls the paramedics they’ll come and get rid of the body. They will attempt to save your closeted friend, if they fail the coroner will be contacted. Between then you may return to the room, retrieve your belongings and be on your merry way. No one will ask many questions I assure you.” Alastor put his gloved hand onto Angel’s cheek and tapped it lightly. Angel wanted to believe him but it couldn’t be that simple.

“Well… I can’t just go somewhere else. I-I” He stuttered. “I have an operation I run around this particular place!” Angel cleared his throat and feigned a cool expression.

“You are truly over thinking this my mincing friend.” Alastor condescended. But that wasn’t the case. It was more complicated than the swarthy male made it out to be. Angel groaned at him.

“No, you’re not getting it asshole! That guy was a mobster! Once people find out he’s dead? I’m fucked! I was the last person he was seen with! Ugh, you don’t get it you’re just a stupid smiling goofball.” Angel whispered angrily. Alastor shook his head slowly and clicked his tongue in disapproval. He moved deeper into Angel’s bubble. His stomach tightened and he glanced away from him. “How long is that going to take?” He asked. Alastor pushed Angel’s hair away from his eyes. Angel flinched when his fingers went through his bangs. He hoped he wasn’t blushing. This guy had zero sense of personal space. But he also was very good looking so it was easy to forgive. Angel shivered, he never did get his fix.

“Depends! We will just stay in here for a little bit and check periodically, when the coast is clear we will cheese it. I hope you didn’t have any plans tonight!” Alastor started laughing again. Angel rolled his eyes.

“Yeah… Sure.” He sighed. After feeling around in his pockets he retrieved his pack of cigarettes and fished one out. “You smoke?” He offered the carton to Alastor.

“Not in confined spaces such as this.” He rejected the offer with a raise of his hand. “So you say you do business with this establishment?” Angel shrugged as he lit his cigarette. He glanced at the dark black grime encrusted elevator floor. He kept the cigarette in his mouth as he pulled off his jacket and created a makeshift seat cushion before plopping down on it.

“Yeah, me and a few friends.” Angel answered. He tried to his best not to look at him because he could feel his stare burning into him. “A few assholes too.”

“And you’re in the mob?”

“Me? No. I just know mob people…” Angel spoke rigidly. “You’re not from around here are ya?”

“This is my first time in Sin City.” Alastor tilted his head. “Very much a dry heat here.” He commented.

“Listen Al- can I call you Al?- You probably should’ve just bailed on me. I already got you all up in my bullshit.”

“No, I couldn’t! Besides. You clearly had no idea what to do. You should thank your lucky stars that I was here to help and if I scratch your back, surely you can scratch mine when the time comes?” Alastor rambled with a smug look. Angel wasn’t surprised. He was very much used to social transactions. It wasn’t bizarre that this guy wanted something for helping him. Most likely his mouth or ass. Either way he had no problem honoring the exchange. He nodded at Alastor with understanding. “You’re quite tall aren’t you? California isn’t terribly far. Why aren’t you there modelling?” Alastor inquired.

Angel couldn’t figure this guy out. Was that his backhanded way of saying he was attractive? He took in smoke from the cigarette and allowed it to settle in his mouth. Pondering his reply as he exhaled.

“Nah…Why? S’that where you’re headed?”

“Yes it is! I’m so glad you asked.”

“What are you supposed to be? The new host of Family Feud or something?”

“Oh no, not in the slightest! I am going to be moving my radio show there.”

“You don’t have a face for radio.” Angel tapped the ash off his cigarette. Alastor’s gaze softened before he shook his head.

“That is very kind of you to say but that is where my passion is.” Alastor prattled on. His hands went to straighten his bow tie. His head lifted slightly and his nose upturned with his close mouthed smile. “I only feel at home behind a microphone.” Angel began to smile at Alastor. His dream like stare was interrupted by a twinge of pain in his body. His fingers involuntarily made their way to his neck as he mindlessly scratched his skin.

“God damn it!” Angel turned his head from the shout on the other side of the elevator door. He rose to his feet and backed into a corner. His cigarette fell on the once white floor.

* * *

**ALASTOR, JULY 26 th 1998**

**1:15 AM**

The tall lad was about to blow it. Alastor wasn’t sure how but that didn’t matter. Whoever was on the outside of the elevator was enough to spook Angel.

“This fucking thing is always out of order!” A deep voice shouted. Alastor pulled Angel to his corner of the elevator. His leather covered hands gripped his shoulders. He hushed him gently in his ear. Alastor listened carefully for footsteps. So far whoever was there hadn’t vacated yet. He leaned into Angel’s neck and subtlety inhaled his aroma. cheap knock off Victoria Secret eua de toilette and cigarettes. The other man had been too busy panicking to pay attention. Would he be a sufficient kill? Perhaps. His gaze shifted to Angel’s pronounced collar bones then down to his teeny tiny crop top that left little to the imagination. Despite being a man he looked very soft, right down to his killer gams. Alastor perked his head up again from the audible dragging of feet. “I suggest we sneak out while we can.” He whispered. He released Angel prodded at the buttons. Alastor watched the door open while it creaked loudly. He stepped into the cool night, looking every which way. He didn’t see an ambulance nor did he see police.

“There’s not a very good response rate around here is there?” Alastor queried.

“No, this is a pretty bad part of town.” Angel answered. He had been pulling his fuzzy pink jacket on.

“Hm.” Alastor stifled a chuckle. “Still! No time to waste.” He took hold of Angel’s wrist and dragged him along with him around the corner. The door of the room was still open. Alastor made sure the coast was clear before he forcibly pushed Angel ahead. Just in case someone was in the room besides the corpse. Angel sighed loudly. Alastor observed from the doorway with his hands behind his back. He watched Angel grab his pink heart shaped purse and what he could assume was left over drugs.

“Daddy is going to be pissed.” Angel stuttered under his breath. He looked to Alastor with his eyebrows furrowed. Angel shook his head as if he was shaking away his anxieties. “Thanks.” He whispered as he slid past Alastor. He calmly followed behind.

“Who’s daddy?” Alastor asked.

“Fuck ya. It’s none of your business.” Angel grumbled. “Do you… Have somewhere I can stay?”

“What? Like my room?” Alastor replied very smugly. “Piling and piling, piling up on favors are we?”

“Doesn’t have to be your room. Maybe your car or something?” Angel pouted. He couldn’t help but feel bad for the fellow.

“Very well.” He caved. Alastor led the way to his red coupe de ville in the front of the motel. The lot had become quieted since he last been outside.

“This is a pretty hot car.” Angel jogged to it before Alastor. He leaned forward as he rubbed the hood. “Wouldn’t mind getting fucked on here." Angel stuck his ass up in the air as he halfway rested on the hood. He seemed to be talking more to himself than Alastor. He glanced at the butt cheek that had peeked from the bottom of the other males miniskirt then narrowed his eyes in annoyance. He clutched Angel’s shoulder and aggressively pulled him off his vehicle.

“Don’t touch it.” He spoke plainly as he opened the door with his keys. “Get in.” He commanded with a wave. Alastor dropped into the driver’s seat then opened the passenger side for Angel.

“Oh… I get it.” Angel put his purse on the dashboard. He became fixated with his reflection. Alastor blinked slowly at him. He was definitely a sight to behold. Something like if that Britney girl and Cobain's girlfriend had a baby. He supposed that look was in style.

“Surely after tonight you won’t have to live in my car?” He asked.

“Don’t worry about it. My friend will be back in the morning. I usually I live in her van and we park somewhere around here.” Angel sighed as he answered. He turned away as he fiddled with something in his pocket. Alastor turned away as he listened to Angel sniff loudly. It was all becoming too clear that he was, at the very least, a homeless drug addict. Usually those were ideal targets. Alastor kept his gaze on the black pavement outside his window. He couldn’t stomach to watch Angel succumb to such human err.

“Oh Al?” Angel seemed to purr. He slowly turned his head with his smile firmly in place. But, Angel had been smiling as well. He let his pink jacket hang off his shoulders. Alastor’s eyes widened slightly. Angel’s eyes had glazed over with a lingering lust emitting from him. He bit his bottom lip as he awkwardly shifted in the seat. Angel was trying to lean forward so that his head would align comfortably with Alastor's lap. When his long arms went for his slacks Alastor's stare snapped to his crotch. “Do you want to cash in that favor?” Angel whispered, managing to get his buckle open. First of all, impressive. Secondly, no this wouldn’t do. This would ruin the perfect way he tucked in his shirt. The other male began to lower his head. Before Angel could do anything lewd Alastor snatched up a handful of his white hair. Angel made the cutest little grunt of pain. Alastor smiled fondly at the sight of it. He forcibly yanked his head upward to look at his visage.

“No.” He answered in a deep monotone. Angel’s large eyes stared up at Alastor. They had been minimally tearing. Sure he had no carnal desire towards Angel. He did enjoy the concept of becoming his friend. Something about it made him feel warm but uncomfortably vulnerable. Alastor cocked one of his eyebrows at him. He’d gotten his point across. Once he let go of Angel he got out of the car. He leaned in while holding the driver’s side door. “I’ll be back to check on you in the morning.” He said. Angel began to attempt comfort in the vehicle. Alastor didn’t wait for a reply when he turned on his heel to walk towards his room. It wasn’t too far from his car anyway.

Alastor locked the door and went to his suitcase. He should might as well sharpen his knives before bed. It had been an overly eventful evening. He wasn’t as full of pep as he was that morning. When he grabbed the old hard motel towel and tossed it on the bed? He wanted until he was opening his suitcase to even straighten it out. His hands rummaged in the bag for his journal. Alastor chalked it up to being tired until his stomach dropped. He still didn’t find the journal. He furrowed his brow and more desperately searched.

“I couldn’t possibly have…” He whispered quietly. But he must’ve. This was all that giant thug’s fault. He had to pack his bag hurriedly. That boorish fucker distracted him. He heard the ambulance sirens pass his room and he stared off with hate in his eyes. This was not his fault. No, he could never admit fault.


	3. Return Of The Mack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor fucked up. He'll never admit that though. Angel fucked up and it's incessantly clear. Valentino is a dumb rat.

**ANGEL, JULY 26 TH,1998**

**11: 45 AM**

A loud slam had been his alarm. Angel’s skirt was hiked up, his tank top slip up his chest. His head was pounding from his drug binge. He wasn’t completely sure where he was. His head moved every which way as he sat up. He was in a car. His eyes fixed on the driver’s side window. A short girl had been waving. Her hair was blonde with orange highlights. Cherri was always trying to achieve Gwen Stefani hair or Ginger spice. Either way it didn’t work. Home hairstyling never did. She wiggled her eyebrows at Angel.

“Angiieeeee.” She sang softly. Her large breasts visible in her glittery hot pink slip. A less than fashionable nude eye patch was on her right eye. Cherri made it work. Her white teeth showed as she gave Angel an evil grin.

“What you bitch?” Angel groaned. He grabbed his jacket and slinked out of the vehicle and kicked the door closed. Cherri strolled over and leaned her ass against the car,

“This some trick’s ride? Or you just broke in?” She inquired.

“Uh…” He trailed off, trying to jog his memory. He took out his pack of smokes, offering one to Cherri then taking his own. Right! The kind of black or maybe some type of Spanish guy from the night before. Whatever, definitely not fully white. “Not a trick, some creep who wants me to fuck him.” He finally answered. "I think?"

“Gotta get changed Ange. It’s about to be lunch and you know what that means.” Cherri jogged to her heavily graffitied Dodge Ram van. She loudly opened the back doors and jumped inside. Angel walked over and lifted his arm to sniff his pits. He kicked off his chunky platform sandals.

“I need a whore’s bath.”

Cherri held the cigarette in her mouth as she turned on the car radio. Immediately she pulled off her slip. Now she was only wearing a thong. She rummaged around in the cardboard box of clothes. She let the ash of her cigarette fall to the already burned carpet of the van. “Didn’t Val give us a room to work out of? Just shower there.” She suggested. Angel sighed as he tossed his fuzzy pink jacket aside. Cherri swayed her body to the Spice Girl’s song playing on the radio. He started to take off his mini skirt and his mini tank top. Now he also was in his underwear. He tossed his cigarette and climbed all the way inside. His hands rummaging in the box as well.

“Uh, I didn’t make a lot last night… I don’t feel like getting fucked up.” He lied. “Where’s all the animal print?” He asked. She lazily tossed him a leopard print bra. “You got any wet wipes?” Angel started to put on the bra. He looked for whatever skimpy bottoms were in the box. Cherri threw the plastic package of baby wipes at his head while cackling. He laughed as the package bounced off him. He opened it up and snatched a bunch of wipes.

“Hey! Let’s go to the strip today. Get picked up by some rich assholes? To make up to falling short? Maybe even hang out at the bar of a casino or something! ‘Sides, fuck Val. We could probably do this without a pimp!” Cherri exhaled the smoke from her mouth then leaned backward on her elbows. Her head rested on the driver’s seat. "All he does is fuck us over."

“None of these fucking shoes are my size, Cher!” He scoffed as he sat back. Angel vigorously rubbed his armpits with the wipes.

“Too big for the box.” She shrugged, crossing one alabaster leg over the other. “Your shoes are in the front seat.”

“How did you drive back over here?”

“Not the driver’s seat dumbass. As if.” Cherri snorted. “Oh that reminds me…” She reached into the front of underwear and started digging around.

“Oh god!” He turned away and threw down the used baby wipes. Angel got on his knees to resume looking for the rest of his outfit.

“Relax, you’re gonna be thanking me.” She took out a teeny tiny plastic baggy of weed and put it aside.

“You were right. That was less bad than I thought it was gonna be.” He shrugged at the sight of pleather short shorts. Hopefully they would fit. “Well bitch pack the bowl I’m dying over here!” He lifted his long legs and pulled the shorts on. In his peripheral Cherri was dealing with the cannabis.

“You look cute.” Cherri sat up now.

"Thank you." He said quietly. Angel turned to face her, sitting with his legs criss cross applesauce, like in kindergarten. ”Seriously we should ditch Valentino.” Angel pursed his lips and remained quiet. Cherri passed the glass bowl to him and a lighter. Meanwhile she pulled an iridescent tube top and exceptionally baggy pants out of the box. She started to dress herself as Angel began to smoke. He sighed as if he were now finally at ease. Then came the coughing fit.

“Can’t.” He wheezed. Cherri rolled her eye. Her hand cupped his angled face and pulled him in for inspection.

“You’re gonna have a shave soon.” She exhaled. She didn’t take the bowl just yet.

"Shit." Angel replied, lowering his head with shame. Cherri's arms reached for box again. Her hands retracted with a couple tiny makeup palettes. “Close your eyes.” She instructed, dipping her ring finger into the blue colored eye shadow. Angel closed his eyes with a pout fixed to his lips.

“No pink?” Angel asked.

“No bitch, if we use pink everyday we’ll run out hella fast.”

“Pink looks so good on me-“

“Oh yeah totally.”

“Really?”

“Not! You look good in anything you dumbass homo.” She laughed, finishing the application of his eye shadow. Angel opened his eyes and took the pallet. “Give meeee...” She dragged her words as she looked at the colors. “Lime green. It’ll be daring!” She exclaimed. Her fingers snatched the bowl and she put the lighter to the spout then inhaled.

“What you need is rouge you stupid fish. Ya look dead.” He sassed with a smirk. Doing the same dip of his ring finger as Cherri did. “Hey Cher?”

“Yeah Angie?”

“Would you squeal on me if you I told you something totally bad?”

“You know I’d never Angel. What happened?”

“Ya know how last night instead of going out with you? Well I met up with Jaws. You know, the guy from my dad's racket? Um... He OD’ed.” He explained in a hushed voice.

“Angel- Holy shit!” Cherri exclaimed, her eye opened immediately.

“Shush! And close you eye!”

“Fuck Ange, what are you gonna do?”

“I um, I don’t really know. I was kinda sorta thinking you could help?”

“I have no beef with giving you an alibi bitch but, Valentino is gonna beat you within an inch of your life!”

“I know… Well as soon as we’re done let’s just get out there so we don’t have to see him right away.”

“Angie, I’m telling ya we gotta kick that scrub to the curb.” Cherri knowingly opened her eye when he was done. She pouted up at him.

“I can’t.” He muttered. “He’s not always bad-“ Even he couldn’t believe his own words. Cherri laid on her back on the dirty carpet floor. She handed him the bowl instead of attempting to argue. Angel was grateful for that much. That’s why they were best friends. He laid down beside her and indulged in the weed, listening to the echo of the TLC song on the radio.

* * *

**ALASTOR, JULY 26 TH, 1998**

**1:00 PM**

After stepping out the shower he was insanely displeased. For one, bathing. Secondly his mind was still turning over his missing tome. After drying off his body he hoped he wouldn’t have to bathe any time after. He’d skipped breakfast and lunch completely. His hunger lied elsewhere. Once he was done getting dressed he pocketed his keys and left the room. The clear skies loomed. Immaculately baby blue. He put his hands in his pockets and began to stroll to his car. He expected Angel to be inside but was surprised to see the coupe empty. Alastor would have to remember to buy disinfectants at the local drug store. He parked his bottom in the driver’s seat, using his keys to start up the car. His gloved fingers adjusted the knobs among the static of his receiver.

“You are listening to 102.3 FM KDOX! Playing oldies from the fifties, sixties, and seventies. Keep the radio on! Playing now? ‘There Goes My Baby’ by the Drifters” The lively announcer said. Alastor gave an approving nod as the baritone male opened the song while the other men harmonized. He put his hands on the wheel and started driving. He couldn’t help but think he would’ve done a better job but that was hardly his main concern on this cloudless afternoon. He veered onto Las Vegas freeway. He wondered if he even wanted to stop in any of the hotels or casinos today. Bellagio had just opened after all. He slowed at the light and leaned out his window. He whistled loudly.

“Hello my good man!” Alastor greeted. The other man had been taken aback and rolled down his window. “Where might I find a drug store?” 

“There’s a Smith’s nearby. Shouldn’t be hard to miss!” The stranger apprehensively replied. Once the light was green he sped off. Alastor however very casually drove forward in no particular rush at all. He did need to find out where Angel was but he’d investigate that later. The Chordettes began to play from his car stereo and he allowed him to be distracted for just that time he got to Smiths to when he was back at the motel.

There was something very relaxing about driving for him. Frankly he could drive to solve any sort of his problems. Mostly because being on the road gave him a chance to clear his mind. Alastor precisely pulled into the parking space parallel from his room. When he shut off his coupe he carried a plastic bag from the pharmacy with him. He decided to check on room one twenty seven. He peeked around the corner. No sign of anyone just yet. He cautiously strode past the ice machine then to the door. A generous amount of yellow police tape had been on it.

“What?” He heard behind him. Alastor about faced. He looked into the mean mug of the man from the day before.

“Just curious about my vacation neighbor.” He tilted his head coyly. Valentino frowned widely. He grunted at Alastor. “It appears that some kind of mishap has you locked out of your room, my friend.” Alastor waved his free hand at the very obviously blocked off door. Valentino rolled his eyes.

“Do you think I’m stupid or something?”

“Think?” Alastor smiled big and rose his eyebrows.

“Just get the fuck out of here!”

“Do you know if they’ll be moving your room?”

“Yes, will you fuck off now?”

“Well that is a bit of good news. Adieu!” Alastor finally walked away from the room. Already formulating a plan in his mind with each step of his loafers.

“Hey! Have you seen some tall stupid bitch around here today?” Valentino shouted. Alastor’s eyebrow quirked up a moment.

“No.” He answered quietly. Suddenly it wasn’t as much about his journal. His mind wondered where Angel was. The man who refers to himself in the third person was obviously ‘Daddy’ and if Alastor could pick up on things? It was fear. Once he got back to his room he put down his bag and rubbed his chin with his index finger. Pacing back and forth. Alastor at last went to the phone on his bedside table.

“Front desk?” The voice of Vaggie answered.

“Yes this is Alastor Bizoton De Le Motte from room twenty eight!”

“Um, yeah. Hi? How can I help?” She spoke in a monotone.

“I was just wondering how one would go about finding prostitutes in this area?” He asked very smoothly. Yet there was silence. “Hello? Vageene? Are you there?”

“It’s Vaggie.”

  
“Oh my I am so sorry!” His face told a different story. He was holding back his laughed. “Anyways Vaggie, I am looking for a cocotte, preferably a regular customer of Vegas Castle.”

“I can’t just order prostitutes for you, you know that right? That’s not part of my job.”

“That… Makes sense.” Alastor whispered. Upset with his faux pas but it was important to keep up appearances. “Well where would you look if you were looking for strumpets in this city of sin?”

“The people I know who are in that business sometimes work along Dean Martin drive. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Yes, that is adequate. Thank you.” He hung up immediately. Alastor crossed his arms. He was racking his brain. Why was he looking for Angel? And why did he care about helping him? Besides the obvious answer. If he killed Valentino it would probably take heat off of Angel. This was doable. Before he knew it his legs were moving out the door and to his car.

After following street signs he reached his destination. It also helped that technically all he had to do was drive straight to merge onto that road. A bit of a wasteland was on either side. Just sand and worn out looking women. He slowed once he spotted Angel and a girl with an eye patch. Angel and the girl whispered to each other hurriedly. He pulled closer to the sanded area. He beckoned with his index finger. Angel’s expression was perplexing to say the least. He acted as if he wasn’t happy to see Alastor. He leaned into the window.

“What?” Angel asked. His lipstick was smeared. He shifted in high stiletto heels uncomfortably.

“Get in.” Alastor said.

“Listen Smiles, I can’t hang out now I’m working and if I don’t make money it’s my well-toned ass okay?” He looked every which way as he spoke. Alastor continued to grin at him.

“Fine, How much for oh…” Alastor paused as he tapped his steering wheel. “Three hours?” Angel rose his eyebrows. He glanced over his shoulder to the young woman with him. She shrugged as she crossed her arms.

“Three hundred. More if you want me to do weird stuff.” He finally answered.

“Get off the door.” Alastor instructed. Angel stood up straight his hands clenched tight as his lower lip quivered. Alastor rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh at him. He pushed the door open. “What are you waiting for? Get in!” He yelled. Angel went into the car and closed the door noisily. Angel attempted to cross his long legs. He took another look at the girl he was with. He raised a hand as Alastor began to pull off.

“I should’ve asked you to show me the cash.” He admonished himself.

“You’re a little cranky, doll. Haven’t you any of your narcotics to take the edge off?” Alastor stepped on the gas and went on route back to Vegas Castle Motel.

“You need money for drugs.”

“Right. How silly of me to assume you have an infinite supply. Not to worry. You’ll get your money… Perhaps I’ll telephone your dealer as well. I’m feeling generous!” He exclaimed. Angel smirked a little.

“You’re an asshole.” He muttered as he leaned his head on his hand and stared out the window. “What ever happened to the favors?”

“Oh, you still owe me. I’m making voluntary step towards something else. Your tab is still intact.”


	4. Insane in the Brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor tried to make his three hours with Angel worth while. But things continue to go against what he has planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the kudos, awesome comments and just reading the story in general. You guys are so nice and encouraging. This fandom is so great. Also I am drunk. Tootles~

**ALASTOR JULY 26 TH 1998**

**3:12 PM**

“Go take a shower.” Alastor said as he opened the door of his room for Angel. The taller male stepped inside and began to undress as he went straight to the bathroom.

“When am I getting the money?”

“When I receive a service.” He countered very vaguely. Angel scoffed.

“Fine, what do you want to do first?”

“I want you to take a shower then we’ll talk about the money.” Alastor’s voice rose with ire. “Okay?” He smirked. Angel looked dismayed by the answer. He continued to the bathroom. Alastor didn’t very much like the skepticism. He’d hate to assert his dominance on a friend but now he was obligated to. 

Alastor began to set up as the sound of the shower came from the bathroom. He opened a pocket of his suitcase and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. It thumped as he sat it on the surface of the dresser. He grabbed one of the glasses that lived on the table where the ice bucket once was. He moved a decaying armchair to be parallel to the bed. An audible shutting off of the shower occurred as he opened his liquor bottle. He poured himself a few fine splashes of whiskey. The door opened. Angel came out with his hair heavy with water. Alastor turned around to get a good look at him. His body was feminine yet very toned and muscular. Angel had the light brown towel barely wrapped around his waist.

“Alright hot stuff, let’s see what you got packing.” He said as he immediately went for the belt of Alastor’s slacks. Not this again. Angel was on his knees staring up at him.

“What? No. Stop that-“Alastor replied. He took hold of Angel’s wrists. “Don’t touch me without permission. And even with permission you’re still pushing it.” He let go of Angel and in turn he stood.

“Wow, o-fucking-kay.” He sneered.

“Get on the bed.” Alastor ordered. Angel obliged. He sat down on the bed and very daintily crossed his legs. Alastor sat down as well. He pensively sipped from his glass of whiskey.

“Can I have some?” Angel asked.

“No, you’re working. Remember?”

“Yeah but usually johns like to make me feel comfortable!”

“I don’t care if you’re comfortable.”  
  
“Fuck, clearly. I probably already got hepatitis c from showering in that fucking bathroom!”

“You needed a shower.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Just sit there and shut up for a minute.” Alastor’s eyes narrowed at the other male. Angel shift awkwardly in his spot. “Take off the towel. Put it under your ass.” He instructed. The taller male obliged but his movement was rigid. He radiated an uncomfortableness. “I want you to touch yourself.”

“Ha! That’s it?” Angel began to cackle. Now his movements became contrived. He brought both of his legs onto the bed. On his knees he sat up, raking his long nails through his hair, then both sides of his neck down to his chest then stomach. Incorrect.

“Not like that.” Alastor shook his head.

“What? Like what?”

“Not like you’re in a burlesque show. Don’t try to be titillating. Act as if I’m not here but also be very aware that I am. Do you understand?”

“Not really.”

“Touch yourself the way you would if you were here alone.” Alastor began to clarify. Angel’s energy shifted back to an awkwardness. He sat all the way down once more with a bashful look on his freckled face. Much better. His hands tentatively went to his member and slowly but surely he started to rub the length of it. It definitely was weird for Alastor to behold so he tried to put his gaze elsewhere. “How old are you?” He inquired.

“Twenty.” Angel answered shyly in a very quiet voice.

“Hm. Daddy issues?”

“I-I guess.” He stammered.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’ve always been more of a mamma's boy myself.” Alastor rested his foot on his opposite knee. “Look at me while you’re doing it.” He said plainly. Angel’s gaze apprehensively went to Alastor’s face. “In the eyes.” Alastor added. A stillness stood between the two men. Angel seemed terrified of being vulnerable. Alastor maintained his default smile. He actually was noticing new things about Angel from this. Like how his eyes were heterochromatic. His left eye brown and his right an oceanic blue. He began to shudder and heat rose from his cheeks. Angel appeared to be trying very hard not to look away.

* * *

**ANGEL, JULY 26 TH 1998 **

**4:07 PM**

What type of shit was this? Angel was having the weirdest wank of his life. He’d done feet shit before. He’d even gotten a golden shower but the voyeur thing was new. Angel would be lying if he convinced himself that Alastor’s obvious dom vibes weren’t sexy. He was just having a hard time making this into something vulnerable rather than another dumb day at work. Also did he want him to jerk off for three hours or is this just the warm up. His chest rose high as his lungs filled with the mildewy air of the room. It was the dry yanking that was driving him crazy. He was also worried anything seductive would be judged by the other man. His dark brown eyes were burned into his bare pink flesh. Angel took the chance. He retracted his right hand and spat in his palm a few times. He didn’t regret it.

“Are you going to do anything to me?” Angel asked.

“No.”

“Then why are you making me do this?”

“I like to watch you squirm.” Alastor replied. That’s what confused him about Alastor. He seemed flirtatious and downright hungry for Angel at times. Then other times it seemed as if he liked to play mental gymnastics with him. Or maybe it was a matter of perception? Angel was used to wanting but no one wanting him back. It was painful. He loved a handful of people. But his true love was drugs. Drugs held him and kept him safe. Loved him more than his mother or father, perhaps even his twin sister. Drugs lulled him to sleep on the nights he roused, terrified and alone. Drugs took care of him more than anyone else. More than Cherri, more than the nice blonde chick who managed the motel. More than his potbellied pig. It was that intense. It was better than any sex he ever had. Transactional and voluntary. He would never let go of the white powder, black tar and speed. They stayed with him for so long. Why would he so cruelly betray them? “I told you to look at me.” Alastor interrupted his drifting thoughts. His gaze snapped to the other man’s eyes. He started to shudder again. Something about looking him dead on made the strokes more agonizing. A yearning was building inside of him. Settling in his abdomen and blooming from his dick. His brain almost wished that Alastor would touch him. Something about being denied skin to skin contact from him made it more frustrating yet desirable.

“I know you cannot see yourself but, your face is currently a fantastic shade of scarlet.” Alastor minimally sipped from his glass. “I’m not sure if you noticed but red is my favorite color.” He smirked. Angel was too busy cursing in his mind. Sweat was beginning to gather under his damp hair. His chest tightened with anxious palpitations. His breathing hallowed as he looked at Alastor. Angel couldn’t take it if this is what he wanted for his full hours. He started rubbing his penis faster to try and get this orgasm out. Alas it was futile. The sensuality made it infinitely harder to bring himself to climax. Like his body was betraying him. It was just a job, right? He was making this all too personal but maybe that was this sicko’s goal. Not an erection could be spotted on Alastor, not even a slight semi. Angel gnawed on his bottom lip and decided, what the hell? Jiggle the balls a little bit. This fucker is getting no pleasure out of this. Might as well go all out. He was getting closer to coming. He couldn't bare to look Alastor in the eye as his cock twitched. Angel had to roll onto his side when he felt as if he was going to burst. This did not make Alastor happy at all. Angel was trying to bury his face into the hard comforter of the bed.

“Tsk, tsk. No, don’t hide from me.” Alastor spoke like a disciplining father. He must’ve got up from his chair because his gloved hand had gripped Angel’s cheeks and forced him to look up at him. Angel had started to pant in response. Alastor’s expression of his eyes had hardened. Unsettling yet arousing propped just above his nose and Cheshire smile. He couldn’t shut his eyes or turn away and his orgasm had already started. Angel’s legs went weak as he finally came. Getting his load all over the dingy towel and his fingers.

“Fuck… My acrylics.” He whispered as he looked down at himself. The usual shame followed the bliss that were his climaxes. Alastor had been kind enough to let go of his face.

“Go clean yourself up.” Alastor said. His default demeanor had returned. He hummed while walking back to his seat. Angel realized he was trembling. He could barely hold the towel over his dick as he quickly scrambled to the bathroom. He slammed the door loudly and hyperventilated while looking at his reflection. What the hell was that? And why was it so hot?

+++

Angel came out of the bathroom fully dressed. Annoyed about having to wash his spunk off his thirty dollar nails. He sat at the edge of the bed.

“I can see your underwear dear.” Alastor noted out loud. Angel rolled his eyes and crossed his legs. “Ah, there we are.” Alastor rose to his feet. “I’m a man of my word.” He reached into the pocket of his black slacks and pulled out a money clip. He counted out fifteen of the twenties then handed it to Angel. He cautiously took the money and recounted it for good measure. He tucked the folded bills into one of the cups of his leopard print bra. “I must say I am very sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

“The hell you talkin’ about?” Angel sneered.

“What just happened of course! I assure you that wasn’t the original plan.”

“You saying you made me jerk off in front of you cause-“

“-Because I didn’t appreciate your mistrust of me one bit. You pushed my hand.”

“What in the fuck are you saying?”

“This wasn’t supposed to be sexual in anyway. I was going to just spend time with you. Get you out of the sun. Like I said I felt backed into a corner really. I’m not usually like that…” Alastor cleared his throat awkwardly and took his seat once more.

“Are you telling me I didn’t have to do that shit? You were gonna pay me anyways?”

“Well, that is the more simplistic version but yes. You needed to be taught a lesson. I think the message was well receive-“ 

“What is wrong with you?” He shouted. Angel shot up from the bed. “You ‘punished’ me because I don’t trust you? I fucking met you last night dude!”

“But, have I been dishonest with you since then?”

“You are a fucking crazy person.” Angel’s eyes were widening in fury as he hovered over Alastor. “Do you know how fucked up it is to do that? All to make me feel… Uh-“

“Inferior? Submissive? Subordinate?” Alastor began to list.

“Let’s just go with all of the above asshole.”

“I sincerely apologize but that was the core point.”

“I’m really mad so I should go because I have no idea what is gonna happen if I stay here with you.” Angel sighed. He grabbed his purse and started towards the door.

“Uh, Angel? I already said sorry. I’m not sure what you’re so cross with me about. I only wanted to prove that you mustn’t doubt me.” Alastor trailed behind him. Angel glanced over his shoulder.

“Okay, why didn’t you just fucking tell me that you psychopath?”

“Ah… That, did not occur to me.” Alastor’s eyes widened. “But I suppose that’s more your fault than mine.” He shrugged.

“Shut up!” A voice on the other side of the wall yelled.

“You shut up bitch!” Angel turned to the wall and screeched.

“Why don’t you make me whore!?” The mystery man yelled.

“I will! I’m coming over there now and fucking you up asshole!”

“How about instead you and I sit and converse my effeminate friend?” Alastor suggested with a raise of his finger. He stared at Alastor with a rage filled glower.

“I have to get out of here before I shoot you.” Angel pulled the door open with a loud swish. “Who the fuck wants to fight? Come on! I’m out here you pussy bring it on!” Angel began to snap off his nails.

“Is this really necessary?” Alastor inquired as he trailed behind Angel.

“You both ain’t shit!” The man shouted.

“Pardon?” Alastor crossed his arms as he stared at the door.

“Come out and say that shit to our faces!” Angel banged his fists on it.

“Our?” He muttered with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Angel cakes?” Valentino emerged from around the corner in the distance. Alastor turned to look at the large man coming in their direction with a none too pleased expression his face. Angel was in mid-struggle, fighting to open the door of the heckler. He pulled on the doorknob several times. When he saw Valentino he stopped and stood in a more submissive stance. Alastor crossed his arms as Valentino stalked past him straight to Angel. "Angel cakes, baby. I've been looking all over for you!" He feigned kindness. Angel didn't receive it well. Valentino's large arm draped around Angel's shoulders and he led him away. "What you lookin' at creep?" He asked Alastor, purposefully bumping into him as they walked by. Angel sighed as he glanced back at Alastor. 

"What happened? Am I still fighting?" The unknown male inside the room called out.


	5. Better Off Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor gets acquainted with some of the hotel residents and staff. Angel finally gets fucking bombed. BUT AT WHAT COST? A large cost. Besides his health but we won't talk about that right now. That's a different chapter tbh.
> 
> TW: Basically intoxicated nonconsentual sex. Also graphic depictions of drug use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so great thank you so much. I hope my stupid dark sense of humor and writing brightens your day! I for one was having a rough couple days there but I feel better. Also I drew a companion picture to go with the fanfic, maybe I'll draw more. We'll see.
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CEnAstVn8js/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet
> 
> So quick backstory. I was born in the 90's literally 1990. SO technically I was like seven when this story takes place but all the music in the chapter titles make me reminisce about that time in my childhood. This one is one of my faves, love that song. Listen to it if you haven't. If you like dance music. trust me you won't regret it. Okay I'm done rambling enjoy the chapter guys!

**ANGEL JULY 26 TH 1998**

**5:41 PM**

“The fuck you looking back there for?” Val asked. Angel lifted his shoulders into a shrug and fixed his mouth to speak. “It’s not that I’m mad by the way, baby. I just need the money.” Valentino led Angel into what he assumed was their new room. "You know how I get when you disappear for days." Val practically threw Angel inside. He rolled his right ankle from staggering backward. He hurriedly retrieved the three hundred dollars and held it out to him. Valentino smirked. His grills glimmered slightly in the darkness. “Good. I thought maybe we had a problem.” Angel exhaled in relief. He took off his shoes and curled up onto the bed. His arms hugged a stiff pillow. Valentino moved about the room as if Angel wasn’t there. He was partially thankful. Angel was tall but Val was taller than him. His baggy street clothes didn’t show it but he was pretty athletic too. He wore his sunglasses everywhere. Angel used to say that’s how you could tell he was insane. Only crazy people wore sunglasses inside. He silently watched the pimp put down his glock on the adjacent beside table that acted as a divider to the two beds.

“I didn’t forget about you.” He said as he brandished a baggie of white powder in front of Angel’s face. He let go of the pillow and sat up.

“All of it is for me?” Angel asked tentatively.

“Don’t be fuckin’ dumb. It’s for both of us.” Valentino laughed. He sat beside Angel on the bed. He got his casual substance abuse method prepped. Val’s preference had been the needle. To Angel it really didn’t matter how he got it in him. He just needed it inside, pumping through his veins. Angel couldn’t bother with needles. Too much time heating up the PCP then putting it in the syringe, blah blah blah! Valentino used tubing to wrap around his arm. Fuck, of course he’d get it first. Which wasn’t fair because it had to be almost ten or twelve hours since Angel had any. He scratched his neck with a pout. Glancing away when Valentino noticed. The other man reluctantly set up for Angel, knowing that if he left him to his own devices he’d fuck it up. He took the tubing. The plastic uncomfortably constricted against bicep. It wasn’t difficult to find the vein so he reluctantly put in the needle. Angel looked away while he injected. He couldn’t particularly stomach it. Also he just wanted to be high. He carelessly handed over the syringe and the tubing. Angel impatiently got up from the bed and waited for it to kick in. He walked to the full body mirror of the wall. His hair had lost its waves. He played around with the white strands but also noted the brown appearing at his roots. Everything shifted around Angel. It was subtle. His world was on a tilt. He snorted while laughing. He held onto the dresser for balance then threw himself on the empty bed. Valentino had already fallen asleep. Angel could use a good nap himself. Not before enjoying the euphoric feeling building in his mind. His gaze went to his hands as he lay on his tummy. He sucked his teeth while observing his nails. Only one survived the heated moment. It remained steadfast on his thumb. Angel shook his head and bit it off as well, spitting it onto the room carpet. He chuckled to himself. He rolled over onto his back. His gaze fixed on the water stains on the ceiling. The scent of the motel soap on his skin, drying it out from lack of moisture. His fingers ran along the comforter. It was like running his fingers on silk. Yeah, he was coming up. In the darkness he was enveloped by warmth. His eyes steadily became heavy as his heart in pounded his chest. It was too bad he had to leave Smiles behind. He’d think about that when he came down. For now he was on his way to a calm sleep.

* * *

**ALASTOR JULY 26 TH 1998**

**6:00 PM**

Alastor wasn’t big on chasing after people in general. When Valentino came and whisked Angel away he stood as if it didn’t faze him. However he was annoyed with how quickly Angel went and how Valentino completely disregarded Alastor. Angel had been useless to him when he was with Valentino. He didn’t want to get his journal from the ‘crime scene’ himself, he needed Angel. He walked to lobby of the motel and lingered at the concierge desk.

“Ahem.” He cleared his throat dramatically. Today there was a male stationed. He had been facing away. His raven hair fashioned in a mullet. The man didn’t turn. He was reading a magazine. Alastor stepped closer and narrowed his gaze. It was one of those dirty magazines with naked women. “Hello?”

“Go. Away.” He said to Alastor in a stilted tone.

“I have a few questions.” He ignored the dismissal. The man turned in the rolling chair and stared up at Alastor. The original name on his silver pin was scratched out and replaced with in rudely written letters that read: Husk. Alastor rose his eyebrows. “I couldn’t help but notice that a room I was formerly in is now blocked off with hideous yellow tape!” Husk began to dramatically slouch as he groaned. He tossed the magazine aside, exposing his bushy eyebrows and salt and pepper beard.

“That’s common.” Husk said. “Also that’s not a question.”

“If you’ll allow me to finish-“Alastor tilted his head and gave him a pleased glance. “Now you’ve gone and answered part of it, doggone it!” he laughed. “Do you know what happened there?” He very eagerly leaned forward as he waited for the answer.

“Some shit, the guy was dead something to do with the mob, the flamingo hotel- Anything else?” Husk skimmed the story down, clearly. Alastor was a fan of efficiency so he saw it as a positive.

“The mob you say?” He rose an eyebrow.

“Yeah I dunno they still kinda run this town. Hate to say it. Don’t tell Charlie I’m talking to you about this. She doesn’t think it professional. Also incriminates the motel, yadda yadda yadda.” He made a flapping mouth with his fingers. “Oh shit...” Husk muttered in realization. He smelled like a brewery so he could only assume that Husk was inebriated. Also forgivable.

“Do not worry my friend! I will keep my mouth sealed tight as a drum.” Alastor mimed zipping his lips. He turned to walk out the door. “Oh, I almost forgot. Who has access to the room at this point? The police, the mob?”

“Will you just get out of here man!” Husk shouted. Alastor shrugged his shoulders with a calm glance. He’d gotten enough information and it was surprisingly easier than he expected. Now there was the manner of getting the foppish boy back with him. He casually walked to his room. His neighbor’s door wide open as he passed. A man sat on the edge of the bed, long greasy hair and what he could assume was a velvet FUBU sweat suit. Alastor stopped to stare. Just so the man could know how ridiculous he looked, so he could be shamed. There was a tribe of children who looked like him, running around and screeching.

“Hey dad! Look! You get to fight now!” One of them stopped and pointed at Alastor. “Hi!” He waved with overexcitement. Alastor tried not to sneer but his eyebrows did raise.

“Hello.” He greeted the child awkwardly.

“Dad look at the funny man!”

“Shit.” The father came and closed the door faster than Alastor could blink. He shook his head at the bizarre sight and went to his own room. Angel’s scent had lingered. He stopped caring about the journal for a while because of it. His mind ruminated on whether Angel was alright. Which was uncomfortable for him since he didn’t for the most part care about other people. He usually cared in the sense that you don’t wish ill will to say a stranger wandering the street. He reluctantly reached for the motel notepad. It was two sheets of paper and crooked stamps of the name of the motel. He sighed as he sat at the rickety table, loosening his tie while scribbling. Alastor hummed, drawing Valentino cut up. Extensively labeling where to incise, times to interact with him seamlessly. Which organs would go where, the desert gave him unlimited possibilities of ditching the remains. Alastor exhaled with ease and began to unbutton his vest. He neatly put it on the other chair, leaving his notes on the table for now. It was a good time to sharpen the knives. Alastor took his glasses off his face and began to meticulously wipe the lenses. His head raised from the sound of a knock. Surely they made an error. He continued cleaning but the knock occurred again. He lightly stepped to the window and slighting moved the curtain to look at who was outside the door. It was an average height suited fellow. Dark brown hair slicked back with too much gel. He placed his hands in his pockets. He shifted on his feet in a fashion Alastor recognized. Once the guy looked over to the window Alastor shut the curtain.

“I saw you!” He shouted to the crack in the door. Alastor’s eyes widened and looked every which way. He slid along the perimeter of the room. Attempting to make as little sound as possible when shutting off all of the lights in his room. He wasn’t opening the door. Alastor snatched his murder notes off the table and went into the bathroom for light. The man was only human. He had to get tired eventually.

* * *

**ANGEL JULY 26 TH, 1998**

**10:50 PM**

He could feel his body being lifted mid slumber. The love boat saw to him being nonresistant. He opened his eyes. Val still wore those damn sunglasses in the darkness. He was holding his face the way Alastor had earlier in the day. It didn’t yield the same desire. Only distress. Val pushed his lips against Angel’s, not sparing any tongue whatsoever. Angel tried to turn his head away. Get his mouth off of Val’s or rather vice versa. Angel started to hum in protest but Val ignored him as he lay on top of him. His mind raced and his eyes closed. He could just pretend for the sake of pretending, right? Angel wasn’t sure if that was weird. Alastor definitely wasn’t taller than him and it seemed aside from his psychotic tendencies he was very gentle with Angel. That was part of the appeal. That and the lack of wanting to use him as a cum dumpster. Val’s heavy form crushed Angel. One of his hands reached into the back of his shorts. At this point Angel accepted it. Maybe at the end there would be more drugs for him? There was no shame in asking. A sleepy satisfied Val was better than a pissy one. Valentino’s fingers gracelessly went for Angel’s anus. Prodding and poking like he was actually doing something to turn him on. It was depressing. He supposed Alastor wouldn’t do that. The illusion of his actual desire was shattered. Angel mimed arousal. Slow and slovenly but present nonetheless. That had been enough for Val to remove his fingers. Unfortunately that meant it was his turn. He rose from atop Angel. Pulling him along by one of his bra straps so that he could sit up. An audible swishing could be heard as his face was shoved into Val’s crotch. Angel shook his head against the other man’s navel. He steered his hard dick into Angel’s mouth anyway. What else could he do but suck it? Probably bite it. But Angel wouldn’t do that despite finding the intrusive thought extremely satisfying. He didn’t have to do much really. Val was on one of his ferocious highs. Every so often he became a freakishly strong beast after using. His hips were thrusting into Angel’s throat, making him tear up. He struggled to breathe through his nose as he stared up at Valentino. Angel felt nauseous with each violent pound of his esophagus. He pushed Val away with a gasp. He stood as he cleared his throat.

“Sorry, just give me a sec. I gotta take a piss.” He coughed, stumbling to the bathroom.

“Don’t you lock that fucking door.” Val stated firmly. Angel tried to keep his mouth closed as he went inside. His fingers fumbled to the light switch then he quietly shut the door. He instantly went to the mirror. His eye makeup and lipstick all runny. Everything was in a haze. Usually he didn’t get emotional during a high but here he was staring at his reflection with tears running down his face. Why was he even sad? This was just another normal day. He turned on the cold water and splashed his face repeatedly.

“What you doing in there?” Val’s words vibrated from the other side of the door. Then it flew open. He came up behind Angel and forcibly turned him to face him. “You think you can get my dick all wet then walk away?”

“I didn’t mean to…“ Angel began to slur his words ineloquently. Maybe he was higher than he thought he was? Valentino didn’t seem to care about what he was about to say. His tongue pressed heavily against Angel’s as his hands undid his tight short shorts. He pulled them off with an unfathomable quickness. Valentino hoisted both of Angel’s legs up then rested them on his shoulders, successfully folding him in half. His wet hot tongue left Angel’s mouth. It was hard to tell if Val was looking at him with those fucking sunglasses on. All he could see was the reflection of his messed makeup off the lenses. He was prodding Angel’s mouth with his index and middle finger. Slowly pumping in and out so that his digits were moist enough to lube up his butthole probably. The cold faucet of the sink stabbed Angel’s lower back. This was more for Val than it was for Angel. If he could just go in dry and enjoy he wouldn’t exert his energy. The same fingers went to Angel’s opening and the puke pink wallpaper made him feel as if the room was slowly spinning. He leaned his head against the mirror patiently, only feeling roused when Val entered him. Okay, this wasn’t too bad. He could just close his eyes and think of something else, or someone else. Which was embarrassing… He hadn’t done that since he was in the closet. What was more embarrassing was the fact that he was thinking of Alastor who seemed uninterested in fucking Angel. Wishful thinking. His mouth hung open as he exhaled with each thrust.

“Say my name.” Val inquired in a low breathy voice.

“Ala-” Angel caught himself. “Val, I mean Val.” He answered in a drug fueled muffle. “Don’t ask me to say things please.” Angel requested mid moan. Luckily Val was too busy getting his dick wet to notice the Freudian slip. Val lowered one of Angel’s legs and started to piston into him with more force. Angel was enjoying it until his lower back stung in pain. “Hey, let’s go back to the bed?” He suggested. Val sucked his teeth.

“Shut up bitch. I’m trying to focus.” Valentino replied. Angel rolled his eyes as he began to pout. Once Val realized whatever stupid fantastical position he was attempting wasn’t executable on the bathroom sink. He carried Angel to the bed. He staggered backward and bounced hard on the mattress with Angel on top. He straddled Val, which was seldom a position he indulged. Once Angel had re-positioned his ass on Val’s dick he rose and lowered his hips. That didn’t last long because Val’s long arm reached up to Angel’s neck. He gripped him tightly and put Angel’s belly to the comforter. So much for that. Val took a break to get the two of them fully undressed. Angel tapped his nails on the bed with a scowl in the darkness. He leaned his head on his hand until he felt Val’s fingers unsnapping his bra and tossing it aside. His chin hit the hard surface of the motel bed as his arms were pulled behind him. Val forced him to position on all fours after dragging him to the edge of the bed. Once he was penetrated the rhythm had returned. What’s more Angel didn’t have to look at Val so he could go back to his intoxicated fantasies. Angel buried his face in the covers as Val pounded away and for a while there it wasn’t extremely terrible. It actually felt good enough that he would climax. Val’s hands remained at Angel’s waist. Nail’s digging into his flesh. Angel’s body was finally beginning to tense up when one of Val’s hands squeezed his shoulder. The same amount of strength pulled him to sit up more while as they rocked back and forth. Val’s nails dragged along Angel’s shoulder and arm.

“What the fu-“Angel started to complain but was cut off by a smack in the back of his head. The drugs dulled the pain but he would feel it when he came down.

“Don’t move. I’m close.” Val grunted. He let out loud annoying moans. Val’s fist punched the back of Angel’s head hard. Then it punched the side of it a second time. Angel yelped in pain as the right side of his head began to throb in warm pain. Val pulled out and let his load out on Angel’s back with no penitence. He laid beside Angel as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. Angel turned his head and glanced at Val with a less than satisfied expression.

“Could I maybe get some more boat for the pain?” He asked. Angel winced while speaking. Val backhanded Angel in response. He curled into a ball away from Val.

“You think imma watch you push off by yourself? Are you fucking dumb? Don’t answer, cause I already know it’s yes.” Valentino threatened as he poked Angel’s shoulder. “Aint enough for both of us!”

“Can I have some money to get my own then?”

“In the morning.” Valentino said. He pushed Angel off the bed so he could move the comforter aside and climb under the covers. “What is taking you so long?” He asked the other male. Angel drearily rose to his feet and got under the covers with Val. Angel made sure to face away from him. At least he didn’t know he killed a mobster.


	6. Californication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interesting development occurs when Angel decided to play hooky from hoeing and hang out with Alastor.
> 
> TW: More graphic depictions of drug use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ruh roh rhaggy. I saw another story with pictures in it so now I'm drawing pictures to accompany my story cause I'm annoying also it'll make it longer for me to post chapters. Blame that wonder dreadfluent for that lol. Thanks for reading of course.

**ANGEL, JULY 28 TH, 1998**

**8:00 AM**

Angel leaned against the wall just outside of concierge. Cherri quickly approached. He couldn’t remember most of what happened the last couple of days but that was to be expected. The day after he and Val had sex he got a bunch of the dust. Unrepentant, he hogged it all for himself. Val didn’t seem extremely offended. Somehow he made money and stayed lucid enough to smoke more until he went into his own specialized minute coma. Angel was feeling lingering pain in spades. One arm crossed across his chest while the other rested on it. Holding his cigarette close to his face and periodically taking a pull. His free hand lifted slightly to greet Cherri. He knew he looked rougher than the last time she saw him.

“Val found out about Jaws?” She asked. Cherri took her place beside Angel.

“Nope. Donkey punch.” Angel answered, staring vacantly at the parking lot concrete before him.

“What the fuck is a donkey punch?” Cherri inquired. The lobby door opened. The little stuffed animal above it cackled. Husk was pushing a giant laundry cart lethargically. He unhurriedly made his way to the rooms that lined the front of the motel. Reddened eyes and emitting the stench of gin.

“Right when the guy comes he punches you in the head.” Husk explained. He didn’t stop to elucidate.

“Morning Husk.” Angel greeted in a sultry voice. He gave him a flirty smirk and perked up at the sight of him.

“Go fuck yourself.” The older man called out, continuing his way. Angel rolled his eyes and returned to his slump. He turned his head to Cherri. She reached into the deep pockets of her baggy pants and showed him the clumps of bills she’d obtained. “At least neither of us didn’t make money. Heard from any of the other girls?” He took another drag. Cherri shook her head. Angel pursed his lips. Husk walked past them with a full cart.

“I am so tired of picking up your hoey cum filled towels.” He said. Angel shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah well we all regret our career choices, Husky baby.” Cherri teased.

“Honestly!” A door swung open abruptly. “It’s one thing to be disgusting whores but, must you talk so loudly as well?” A greasy little creep in a velour sweat suit complained. “My boys are trying to sleep.” He spoke with a hilarious lisp.

“Fuck off Penn, P Bucks, Piss dollas or whatever the fuck you call yourself now.” Angel said. “Fuck you and your kids.”

“It’s P Money! And you need to respect it. I’m hustling out here. You’re just throwing your asses and pussies about.” He tried to close the door quietly but the young boys were already peeking to see the spectacle. “Sucking all types of dicks all hours of the day and not bothering to be ashamed!”

“Yeah we get it, you’re a bad father.” Cherri gave a mischievous grin and wiggled her fingers at the little ones.

“Hi miss Cherri!” One couldn’t help but exclaim his ‘r’s sounding like ‘w’s.

“Go back in there and sleep!” Penn admonished the children. They didn’t budge. “See what you’ve done? Don’t look at them!” He went to the door and tried to shield their faces with his long body.

“Must be real hard for you, having sex with some broad, getting her knocked up, having quintuplets, having her leave you, AND you gotta try and sell your shitty excuse for drugs. Which is mostly baby powder, sugar and like fifteen percent speed.” Angel held back his laughter. Teetering his cigaretted hand like a scale. Penn was always good for a laugh. He shook his head. “I should’ve beat your ass the other day.”

“Please.” Penn rolled his eyes. “Do you whores really think you’re any better than me?”

“Yeah, we’re cute.” Cherri declared as she stood up straight.

“Daddy, I like her.” One of the boys whispered and pointed at Angel. He shyly stared at him. Now that really made him smile. A nice little thing to combat his post drug binge melancholy.

“That’s a man!” He told the child angrily.

“But I like him!”

“I swear to g-“Penn stammered. “Get inside the damn room.” He demanded. He finally shut the door fully.

“You better be nice to that one when he grows up Penny. If I find out you make him feel bad for being gay? I’m gonna blow your brains out. And not in the good way.” Angel flicked the cigarette away.

“Shut up, he’s six he doesn’t know what he likes yet. He just has to grow up around sluts who confuse him!” He reopened the door, preparing to go back inside. “Keep it down out here or I will strike the other side of your face so you’ll have matching bruises! Like a panda!”

“Find a real place to live then asshole!” Cherri rose both her middle fingers and stuck her tongue out at him. “Have a good day, Penny.”

“Stop calling me that!” Penn went into his room and closed the door loudly. Angel got a chuckle out of it but his eyes focused on Alastor’s room.

“What?” Cherri asked Angel.

“Wondering if Smiles is still around I guess. He’s probably halfway to Cali by now.”

“You sound bummed about it.” She commented. Angel remained silent. Husk rejoined the two. His box of Marlboros upside down as he hit the bottom with his palm.

“You know Aaron was here the other day. Forgot to tell ya. You were too wasted anyways.” Husk told him. Angel’s eyes went wide. Cherri began to look worried as well.

“Yeah? Was he lookin’ for me?”

“Nah, he was looking for the weird guy who checked in the other day. The one with the stupid glasses, dresses way too fancy. Acts like he’s at the MGM or something. He’s got that sick coupe?” The other man began to describe. Shit. Aaron was looking for Alastor.

“Oh, your trick Angie! The Hispanic guy!” Cherri exclaimed as she slapped his arm. Not only did he cringe in pain, he glared at his BFF. “Oh I mean…” 

“He’s not Hispanic his last name is long and French or something.” Husk began to argue.

“Maybe he’s Native American or something, like Navaho?” Cherri shrugged. “He’s got good bones. And there’s only like four of them left in America or something-”

“Does it fucking matter though? He was in the room that one of your dad’s guys died in Ange.” Husk rolled his eyes. “Dunno if you heard about it. Think he was a made man right?”

“Is he okay?” Angel asked with his eyebrows knitting with concern.

“Your dad’s guy? Um, no. He’s dead.” Husk misinterpreted the question completely. Angel didn’t bother to correct him. “Well, better get back to getting your disgusting towels.” He walked away before either of them could respond. Angel was fine with it.

“Long day ahead of us Angie.” Cherri muttered. She put away her wad of bills and forked over a couple fifties for Angel. “So you can get wet.” She told him. He was grateful. Soon he wouldn’t have to worry about any of the bullshit. He could resume the empty shell that had been his normalcy. He wouldn’t have to think about Alastor. His creepy permanent smile. His dark intense gaze and his handsome face. His superiority complex and his terrible digestion of social cues. It was enough to tide him over. At least now he wouldn’t have to fuck Val to ask for his own money.

Angel strode past the rooms while dragging his feet. He could tell that Cherri sensed his listlessness. She also probably noticed that he noticed her. He walked faster so he could make his way to the motel’s dealer as soon as possible.

+++

Angel flicked the little button on his lighter. The bowl of his glass pipe burned. Under the staircase near the oh so familiar crime scene he inhaled his coveted embalming fluid. His mind melted while ruminating on Alastor. Whether or not his dad had him killed. Or at the very least taken and strong armed into information. Why else would Aaron would be looking for him? The noxious fumes cascaded through his respiratory system. His eyes grew heavier with each hit. He eventually sat on the cool concrete floor. His tightly fitted slip dress rode up his hips. Colors around him melted. Vibrating in circles. Aaron was a terrible big brother, would he go so far to kill Alastor? Given Alastor was a little cretin, but if he deserved to die for anything? It wasn’t for the death of Jaws.

“Angel.” He heard behind him. He stashed his pipe and swiveled his head. His hair hung limp. All its luster faded during his binge. No time primp, get pretty or put on makeup. Just days on his back or on his knees. The skin a furious pink from grating against the famous coarse carpet of Vegas Castle. Alastor stood there with his hands behind his back. “You’re quite the hard fellow to find.” He stepped closer. “When you want it.” He snickered playfully. Angel pursed his lips and averted his gaze to his shoes. “Oh my goodness!” he shouted at him. “What in the devil happened to you?” His eyebrows furrowed with concern but he still smiled. How the hell did he do that?

“It’s nothing.” Angel hugged his knees to his chest as his words collided in a drug induced stupor.

“Hm.” Alastor’s smile, ever present, made his body feel warm in two places. One he was familiar with, the other not so much. He was becoming stationary from the high.

“Busy working y’know?” He replied with a cavalier shrug of one of his shoulders.

“Have time to play hooky with me? If only for but an afternoon?” Alastor’s hand gripped Angel’s elbow and aided in pulling him up onto his feet.

“Val wouldn’t like that.”

“I do not care about what Valentino likes.”

“You don’t care about what I like either.”

“I don’t but, you’ve emaciated somehow since I saw you last.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“You haven’t eaten in days.”

“Yeah. What does that have to do with emancipatin’?” Angel rose an eyebrow. “Does sperm count as a protein?”

“Oh for the love of god.” Alastor rolled his eyes. He began to drag Angel along with him as they walked in the other direction. “How many brain cells have you lost?” He scoffed under his breath. Angel allowed him to drag him into his room. His vision doubled as they reached the door. He tottered to the bed and fell face first. “Um…” Alastor hummed. Angel’s heartbeat became so deafening he couldn’t hear much of anything. “Are you listening to me?” The room went black. Angel realized this was from him passing out for a bit. When his eyes opened he felt the profuse sweat under his hair, pooling at his collar bone. Even at his midriff. Alastor forced him to sit up.

“What did you say to my brother?”

“I beg your pardon?” He turned to him. Angel lowered his head and shook his head at Alastor.

“Nothing, doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t much like babysitting you during whatever episode you are having so instead we’ll get some fresh air.” He declared.

“Can’t I chill here just a little longer?” Angel began to beg. He shook his head like an ashamed parent. Angel could tell because he knew the glance all too well. Alastor rolled his eyes and took a seat beside him. His elbow kept bumping Angel’s. His arm was scorching like lava. His whole body was. However Alastor’s body was cooler with each touch. “I can’t be doing this shit Al. I gotta make some money.”

“Money is no concern. How much do you need to tide over the little rat that pesters you in exchange for your sanity?” Alastor asked. He couldn’t muster a succinct thought. Too many words were being used.

“Uh?” He perked up a little. “Same one.” His eyes began to droop. Angel’s lust wasn’t assuaged. His gaze held on the shorter gentleman. It didn’t matter much while they were sitting but his olive skin radiated. His textured hair was going through a consistency crisis. Parts wanting to be straight and others coiled. Today Alastor was wearing his bowtie but no vest. Today it was easier to imagine what it would be like if he tried to sleep with him. He wasn’t an extremely muscular guy but probably nice to look at undress. Angel often attempted to escape pain in any way possible. Sex, drugs, alcohol. Nothing seemed to fill him. Everything was just an alternating cycle of trying rid himself of this soul crushing emptiness. If he knew how to stop he would. Alastor was just a new system introduced to the cycle. Angel’s fingers tugged at the small opening at the wrist of his white dress shirt. Angel shifted on the bed to face Alastor. Staring into his face with no words between them. Maybe Alastor could fill him up at long last?

* * *

**ALASTOR, JULY 28 TH 1998**

**12:55 PM**

Angel looked at him like he was starving. Unsure and embarrassed, something in his gut felt hungry too. His expression stayed. It had to, there were no exceptions. Alastor snatched his arm away from Angel once he felt his fingers graze him. Alastor didn’t have time for nonsense. In fact it was counterintuitive to even try to maintain this potpourri of a friendship. His eyes would express contempt. Angel eyes were oblivious. The freckles that scatted the top of Angel’s cheeks rose as he began to drearily smile. Alastor wasn’t sure of what to do. He wanted to push the younger male away but couldn’t muster his usually seamless courage. His long slender fingers pulled his white locks back against the top of his head. Alastor felt intoxicated by association.

“What crawled up inside you and died? Don’t you like to feel good?” Angel asked quietly. “Even for just a second?” Alastor knew something stirred. It was best to ignore it. It couldn’t be anything but his craving. A fixation to dissect flesh at any passing moment. To become enlivened by the prospect of getting away with murder. Watching others fail and become slaves to their devastation. “Can I touch you?” Angel scooched closer.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t feel like being touched right now.”

“For the record? I don’t just mean regular touching.”

“You’re high.” Alastor stated with an unearned callousness. One of the straps of Angel’s slip dress dropped off his shoulder. Exposed peach skin made Alastor’s stomach warble. Angel attempted standing. He fell backward mostly. After his third try he was successful in raising to his feet. He pulled the dress over his head and dropped it to the floor.

“Yeah, well. Sometimes it makes me numb. Y’know, if you want to do something really crazy?” Angel played with the sides of his undies. Letting the elastic band snap against his hips. Bedroom eyes lasered intangible blisters onto Alastor’s countenance.

“Please just put your clothes on.” Alastor turned his head away. “Did something happen? The last time we spoke you were wrongfully furious with me. Which yes, makes me glad you’ve come to your senses. But I regrettably must know what brought you to this?”

“Dunno, the fact that ever since we parted? I been…” Angel was focusing hard on what his next words were. Alastor raised an eyebrow at the sight. “Money has been good y’know? Since after you helped me out. I just wanna fulfil my end of the bargain now.”

“No need. I will tell you when and what I’ll want from you.” Alastor made eye contact with Angel. “This is unnecessary. Besides, this is supposed to be avoidance of work. Don’t treat me like I’m an actual customer.” Somehow he was becoming flustered.

Angel began to crawl into the lap of Alastor as if he said nothing at all. He kept his hands to himself. Angel’s nose was touching Alastor’s. Brown and blue eyes stared intensely into his. He worried about speaking lest his lips touched the other man’s. Bite. Bite. Bite. He wanted to taste coppery blood. Impulses were taking over. He didn’t initiate touching however Alastor certainly didn’t push Angel off. This wasn’t a reality. Angel had been higher than the price of gas and he expected Alastor to simply go along with this impropriety? Not a chance.

“Don’t make me do something that’ll upset you.” His voice remained even. Angel didn’t give a shit. That much was clear. “No. I’m not joking around. This is making me grossly uncomfortable.” Alastor grit his teeth. Angel pressed his forehead to his. Warm breath reverberated off Alastor’s cheek. The scent of cigarettes and chewing gum.

“Why? You scared of me?” Angel teased. Alastor had two options. One: continue this nonsense to shut the younger man up. Or two: stop this entire interaction with a firm hand. Alastor let his thoughts get away from him. Angel’s soft palm slowly ran up his dress shirt. His digits curling gracefully to his neck and almost reaching his hair. Alastor gripped Angel’s wrist. “Ow! What the hell Smiles?” Angel had begun pouting those full lips of his. He promptly released him and with a tenderness pushed him off. Alastor got up and plucked Angel’s dress from the floor. He turned to face him. The bottom of his circled lenses fogged slightly. He tried to avert attention from it by pushing them further up the bridge of his nose.

“I told you to stop.” Alastor said. “Lift your arms.” Angel obeyed. His long arms hung high above his head. Alastor helped in redressing him. “Now, are you finished?” His suit jacket was draped on the back of his only room chair. He put it on then took out his pocket square handkerchief. He methodically unraveled its perfect folding and started to wipe parts of Angel’s smudged makeup in a weak attempt to even it once more. Angel’s pout wouldn’t leave his face. Reluctantly he nodded. “Great.” Alastor stood up straight once more. His gloved fingers fiddled with his pocket square to restore its triangular glory. “Now, do you want a jacket or something? Are you coming to lunch with only that?” he asked. Angel’s glazed over eyes held on Alastor’s visage. “Not much of a conversationalist at this point I see. You’re going to have to overcome that on the drive over.” Alastor spoke loudly. He went to the dresser and shrugged at the sight of his clothing. A cardigan would have to do. A soft cashmere one that he hardly bothered to wear. Soft and scarlet. He certainly didn’t need it now in Vegas. “Here.” He placed it over Angel’s shoulders and walked over to the door. He held it open a while. “Come on.” He beckoned in a small voice. He motioned his hand to the outside while staring at the younger man. Angel wearily got off the bed. As if he wasn’t sure of what was happening, he slowly stepped outside. “Go to the car I’ll be there shortly.” Alastor instructed. Angel’s heels ticked audibly against the tar topped parking lot. Alastor exhaled through his nostrils and hurriedly locked the door.

+++

Alastor walked up to Lou’s Diner with Angel loudly teetering beside him. It wasn’t too bizarre. If they got stares surely it would be for other reasons, surely. Not because his companion was clearly whacked out of his mind from… Whatever drug he liked, he wasn’t quite sure what it had been. Nor did it matter. Alastor didn’t have that kind of problem. A stiff drink every so often but that had been his limit. Angel leaned on the podium of the hostess.

“Two please!” Alastor beamed, holding up his thumb and index finger.

“And it has to be a booth!” Angel’s hand slammed on the podium. A bowl of mints fell to the floor. Alastor stifled his laughter. The stuffy penguin favoring woman nodded politely. She moved with haste to the nearest clean booth and put menus down.  
  


“Your waitress will be here in a minute.”

“Thank you.” Alastor opened the menu and perused the items. “Order whatever you want just don’t order something that you won’t eat. It can be quite cumbersome. Wasting money on such a thing as uneaten food.” Laying down the bones of his rules was hardly the difficult part of lunch. Angel had already passed out, mouth agape, leaning on the window of their booth. “Angel, wake up.” He said curtly. In a low voice as to not embarrass the lad. “Angel!” Alastor yelled. His mouth released a snort. Alastor kicked Angel’s shin. Not hard enough to hurt him but hard enough to wake him.

“Ow!” Angel roused immediately. His hands rubbed his shin as he brought one of his legs to his chest.

“What do you want to eat or I’ll smack you so hard you’ll ever forget you ever were-“ He leaned forward. Talking excitedly in a low grim tone. His eyebrows knit in frustration. All mannerisms pointed to annoyance. Aside from his smile of course. The waitress strolled over in a mint green diner uniform. “Hi!” Alastor code switched quickly with a more relaxed and amused body language. Angel puffed out his cheeks like a child.

“Can I have liquor?” He asked. Now was not the time. The waitress was already there. Alastor shook his head and waved his finger in disapproval.

“No, Angel. You’re not of age. Remember?” Alastor countered. His sentence ended in a low rumble. The waitress just looked perplexed.

“Then you get it for me.”

“I CAN’T get it for you. That is also illegal.”

“Are you two ready to order-“ The woman glanced between them.

“Burger supreme, rare please.” Alastor requested. “You’ve any Pinot noir?”

“Beef and wine, what’s wrong with you?” Angel laughed.

“People do it all the time. That’s why people have steak with wine.” Alastor retorted in a very matter-of-fact tone.

“You just made that up.”

“I did not. It’s a staple of American culture.”

“Whatever, talk to the hand,” Angel’s palm raised as he rolled his eyes. He looked to the waitress. “Hey there baby, you guys got any of those long chicken things with no bones?” He illustrated his request, drawing an oblong shape in the air with his index finger. The young woman seemed confused. She stammered with her mouth open. “Whatever. I want those and I guess a chocolate milk.”

“That’s disgusting. Also are you referring to these?” Alastor lifted the menu and pointed out the chicken tenders platter, uncomfortably formatted between the children’s menu and breakfast options. Angel rose his shoulders into a shrug. Well, he certainly was awake. “Get a pop, I beg you. Just don’t drink any chocolate milk.”

“You said I could order whatever I wanted!”

“Fine.” Alastor snatched the menu off of Angel’s side of the booth then slid it over to the waitress. “Thank you.” He told her. She was in too much of a hurry to get away from them. “Glad to see you’ve finally joined us.” Alastor’s earnest smirk grew as he looked to Angel. “You know, now that I know of your, ‘profession’” Alastor lifted his hands to mime finger quotes. “I think it’s high time you told me your real name.” Angel’s eyelids still hung low but his eyebrow went high up his forehead, paired with a mischievous smile.

“I don’t like to get too formal with strangers.” Angel crossed his long legs and propped his head on his hand.

“You’re not still cross with me about before are you?” Alastor teased.

“No… I think. I don’t even know what the fuck that means. You talk like how the bible is probably written.” Angel slurred. Waters with ice in filmy glasses were placed in front of them. Angel began to gulp his down.

“Well, if you’re not upset with me then?” He leaned forward a bit. Alastor waited with his hands eagerly palm down on the table. He bit his lip as he smiled.

“Don’t go blabbing all over town about it but, my name is…” Angel glanced around with a suspicious aura. “Anthony. There! You happy?”

“Not too far off.”

“Yeah just don’t go calling me it and shit.” Angel put down his empty glass loudly. “Now I got a question for you asshole.” He pointed his finger. “How fucking old are you?” Angel’s face scrunched up. His eyes were staring at Alastor.

“Not that it’s any of your business but I just turned thirty two.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. You look twelve.”

“That isn’t a compliment.”

“Yeah! I know.” Angel had barely blinked since he first observed Alastor. “When I was a baby you were like, in grade school and shit already, right? Like eight?” He shook his head slowly at Angel, who was clearly at the manic portion of his intoxication.

“Sure.” Alastor indulged, it was wrong but sure. Their food was finally put down in front of them. Just in time too, Angel seemed to be a lot hungrier than he let on. Alastor began cutting his burger into six triangles. It didn’t always go well. Today was one of the times it went terribly. Mushy wet red stained bun. Oily juices dripping from the raw red meat of the burger. The pickles, onions and tomatoes not aiding in keeping the burger coherent. But there was no other way to eat it. Angel was too into his tenders to even focus on Alastor’s bizarre ritual. “So, do you have relatives in town?”

“Yeah… Why do you ask?”

“Oh so you’re aware of your brother coming to stalk me?”

“I mean no. I was busy.”

“Busy with- Nevermind.” Alastor waved a hand at Angel. “I wish you would’ve said that you were literally related to the mob. That would’ve been helpful when your brother arrived at my door. I don’t think it was a good move on your part but we can move on from that.”

“Al, what the hell did he want with you?”

“Hm well…” Alastor used his fork and knife to bring his portioned burger to his lips. “He seemed to believe that I was from a rival family from out of town.” He swallowed before he spoke. “Quite the elaborate imagination. He said that he knew that I was here to fulfill several mob hits against the Moretti crime syndicate. I told him: sir, I am a travelling southern radio host. My intention was never to over throw your operation.”

“So you told him you’re not.”

“Yes.”

“So you’re in the clear?”

“No.”

“WHAT? Why?”

“He said he didn’t believe me.” Alastor shrugged. He began to sip his wine to wash down the food. Angel groaned loudly and put his hand over his face.

“Fucking Aaron.” He whispered. “Well Smiles… We gotta prove that you’re not the guy.” Angel’s lips flattened against each other. The two men stared at each other in silence. “Or get the hell outta here?” Angel suggested. Alastor smirked at him.

“I had something very similar in mind.” Alastor whispered. He put down his eating utensils and got up from the booth. He grabbed Angel by the forearm and led him to the men’s room. From behind him he could hear Angel fussing but Alastor had laser focus as he went into the confined space. He walked to the handicapped stall.

“Al… Why are we in the bathroom?” He asked inelegantly. Alastor looked under the stall then stood incredibly close to Angel. He crossed his arms over his chest in defense.

“For safety.” He answered. “So do you remember the night we met?” Alastor asked Angel. He replied with a hurried nod. “Before your precious Valentino checked into it? I was placed in room one twenty seven. In all the muck and mire from changing rooms I left something behind. A book- my journal.” His tongue tripped.

“Aw that’s so cute. I always wanted a diary that came with a with a fuzzy pen top. Y’know like the ones in movies?” Angel rambled. Alastor stared blankly at him

“It’s not a diary.”

“Does it have a lock?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah sorry dude, that’s a diary.”

“Okay we’re getting distracted. What it is, is not terribly important. What is important? It has been in that room since the night I helped you. If we go back and get it? I can check out. You get your stuff. We’ll drive all the way to California. We could part ways or continue this friendship. The choice is yours.” Alastor offered his hand to Angel. He only glanced at it so Alastor let his arm fall to his side. “But I need my journal before we do anything. I can’t make that anymore clear.” Angel’s face had a cycled range of emotions permeating. At first he seemed perplexed then curious. The final reaction was that of dubiousness but also excitement. Angel was shyly leaning against the parallel wall of the handicapped stall. Hair fell into his face and covered his brown eye. He couldn’t seem to stand to look at Alastor in the face.

“You’re dead fuckin’ serious aren’t you?” He asked quietly. Alastor nodded his head. “You wanna skip town with me?” It was hard for Alastor to answer. He wasn’t sure what would happen next if he did. Before, it felt like Angel was just a perfect scapegoat or victim. Then something shifted. Alastor didn’t feel those roles fitting anymore. He saw the meaning of his own existence was to bring woe and rage to others. Then to savor it for his own enjoyment. Angel was like an equal in that vein. He didn’t care for people. A misfit tossed aside. Angry and yearning for satisfaction from the outskirts. Watching pathetic men scramble from their glass tank, like fish in an aquarium. He was the only one who questioned Alastor’s dominance with a quick wit. The only noticeable difference was that Angel was secretly sensitive. Feelings overflowed in him. He couldn’t simply push everything away. It bubbled to the surface and he’d break the character he’d created for himself. The avatar made for the world. Inside he desired many things. A small inkling of hope, fear, and imperfection. Alastor wished he could let his humanity peek to the surface like that. Then to easily snatch it from the world’s spectacle? In that sense, Angel was a better man.

“Why aren’t you in your family business?” Alastor changed the subject if only for a moment.

“My dad is in charge so a lot was expected of me… My fucking brother is such a fucking yes man. Always more into it than me. I-I just don’t fit the bill… Obviously.” Angel glanced down at himself with a sorrowful murmur. “So I went on my own. Do my dirty deeds. All my way.” Alastor tilted his head. Not completely his way. He was still being run but he understood the sentiment.

“Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven?” Alastor quoted the poem in a precise and biting tone. Angel’s eyes brightened from the validation.

“Yeah…” He paused. Angel moved closer to Alastor. “Okay, you crazy bastard let’s do it!” His white hair bounced as he nodded his head quickly.

“Yeah?” Alastor gave a genuine smile.

“Yeah. I said yeah. Fuck yeah!” He started to laugh. “Come let’s go.” Angel got on the floor of the stall and crawled out to the other side. “Hey Al, can you give me a hand?” Alastor walked out of the stall like a normal person, of course and helped house Angel closer to the window he was trying to reach.

“Where are you going?” Alastor inquired.

“Dining and dashing.”

“Oh alright, let me just settle our bill-“

“No stupid we’re both doing it. Dining and dashing is eating without paying!” Angel pulled his body halfway through the window and held his hand out for Alastor. His brow furrowed. He never saw a reason to not settle a bill. “Don’t think about it! Just do it!” Angel was waving his arm frantically. Alastor took the leap of faith. Quite literally. Angel had to pull him out the window. The two snuck around the building to the parking lot. Alastor could see the hostess and waitress at their booth from the window. Angel only cackled as he stepped on the gas and sped away. He felt the rush but he did wish he finished his wine.

* * *

**ANGEL, JULY 28 TH 1998 **

**4:00 PM**

Was it all happening entirely too fast? Yes. Was Angel terribly concerned with it? As it currently stood the answer was no. Once he and Alastor got back to Vegas Castle his body shot electricity all through him. He giggled and playfully nudged Alastor once or twice as he led him to his room. First the journal, then who knew what? He wasn’t going to feel trapped inside of himself anymore. Alastor seemed to be just as glad. It felt very good. Maybe it was the drugs? But he couldn’t put words to it.

“I can’t break into anywhere with this on.” He waved his hands over his dress.

“Not to worry friend. I’ve got just the thing!” Alastor turned from the closet with a dress shirt and boring pants. Angel stared blankly at him.

“You know what? It’s okay I’ll change later.” He muttered.

“You’re right. It isn’t an easy look to pull off.” He turned away from Angel with a chuckle. Angel had to smirk. He seemed so pleased with himself. His fingers went to his tiny purse and felt around for change.

“I’m gonna go make a call. I’ll be back okay Al?”

“Sure thing.” He answered. Angel speed walked from the room to his destination. A phone booth on the side of the road. He closed the glass door behind him with a creak then inserted his quarter. His index finger entered the phone number on the rotary dial. The payphone rang a couple times then someone answered.

“Hello?” A female voice greeted.

“Mol, is that you?” Angel whispered into the receiver.

“Anthony?” She asked sweetly.

“Yeah it’s me.” He snickered. “Just callin’ to tell ya something fucking off the heasy.”  
  


“As if!”

“No! For serious. Listen Molly, I’m gonna be heading to California soon. I’m gonna start modelling. Make some money then I can bring you and Ma out here to live with me. You’ll never have to deal with Henry ever again. None of us will.” Angel rambled excitedly. His sister only met his news with silence.

“How you getting to California?” Molly queried tenderly. Angel began twirling the springy phone cord around his fingers. He smirked like a school girl gossiping about their newest crush.

“I met a guy.” Angel smiled shyly and lowered his head. “He’s real handsome. Older too. I can’t wait for you to meet him Molly, he’s a total weirdo.” Angel started to ruminate. “Mol? You there?”

“How long you known this guy?”

“Couple days?”

“Anthony! That’s so dangerous”

“What?”

“-You can’t just run away to Hollywood with some man you just met. What if he’s some kind of murderer-”

“-oh as fucking if-”

“-What about dad and Aaron? You don’t have anybody over there but them. Anything could happen-”

“-I don’t need those two fuck faces. I can take care of my fucking self-” He continued to talk over Molly as she reprimanded him on the other end of the line.

“What are you gonna do for money before you get your modelling gigs?” Molly sighed. “You don’t even have that set up yet, I’m sure you don’t. I know you.”

“It’s okay he’s also got money.”

“Anthony, no!”

“I don’t understand. I’m finally getting my shit together and thinking of you guys and you’re still mad at me!”

“I’m not mad. You’re not getting your shit together, Tony. You’re just running away. The problems don’t stay in whatever state you leave. You should know that much.” Molly seemed to be judging him but it was always hard for him to be angry with her. She was an angel on his shoulder. “Are you even clean yet?” Angel went quiet. No bitch, he was high right now in fact. 

“I’m working on it.” His voice enfeebled. “I used today but I swear after I get to Cali I’m going cold turkey. Everything is gonna be different.”

“You got any idea how scared Ma is for you? She keeps checking the news to make sure you ain’t up and died. How about you just come here we can get you in a good rehab and you can start over. If you’re leaving Nevada behind at least come somewhere where you know you’re loved. Please?” She begged. Angel’s nostrils flared. “Please?” Molly’s voice choked. “I keep having nightmares about you ODing. I think you should try to come home. I’m scared too…”

“What so that’s it? I’m a stupid fucking druggie homo who can’t make decisions? A fucking leech? Fuck you Mol! I changed my mind. Don’t call when you see me in magazines. And tell Ma I said bye, forever I knew I couldn’t count on anybody.” Angel shouted into the phone. He could hear Molly pleading with him. His defense impulse took over. “No! Fuck you! You don’t fucking care about me! I’m fine! I can stop whenever I want!” he shouted over her. “I don’t need your fucking help! Because I don’t have a problem!”

“No, you do have a problem! Let me help you! You stubborn asshole!” Her muffled shouts taunted him. He slammed the phone down loudly. The corners of his eyes stung as mucus accumulated in his nostrils. He slid down the glass of the booth then sat on the floor of it. Though he was too tall for it to be comfortable he pulled his knees in to his chest. Angel sniffled in frustration. Everything crashed down around him. And just as serious? He was finally starting to come down. 


	7. Around The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel can't seem to shake this empty feeling nagging him. Alastor has no time or patience for it. He vehemently rebukes him for it. Angel takes the chastising harder than Alastor intentioned.
> 
> TW: A character calls my precious femboy the T-slur. There's bad sex and death in this chapter. Kay go ahead guys.

**ANGEL, JULY 28 TH 1998**

**4:18 PM**

He needed to pull himself together. He got up from the floor of the phone booth and opened the door gently. He used the sleeve of Alastor's cardigan to wipe the tears away. His other hand went fish for his cigarettes in his bag. His fingers grazed the cool metal of his .357 derringer pistol. He could do it. He could blow his brains out. Smiles would never be the wiser. He would’ve been doing him a favor. That would show his asshole family. Angel then thought of Cherri. She’d be devastated if he did it. The motel staff wouldn’t be ecstatic either. They were kind of friends, right? Guilt replaced his high as he smoked his cigarette. Walking back to Vegas Castle Motel with a cloud of depression following him. Alastor was waiting. No room to chicken out now. Somehow his heart felt broken. Alastor left the door cracked for him. He wished he could get a good look at himself. He didn’t want to be suspect in anyway. He couldn't look like he was crying. He wanted Alastor to be secure. He wanted him to feel like he was still on board.

* * *

**ALASTOR, JULY 28 TH 1998**

**4:30 PM**

His ears perked up from the sound of heels near the doorway. The scent of cigarette smoke signaled that it was Angel. Alastor finished his packing in no time. A welcomed perk of being well organized. He glanced over his shoulder when Angel came inside.

“I think we’ll be able to get on the road by nightfall.” He said. Angel didn’t speak. Alastor’s eyebrows knitted and he pushed his glasses up his nose. “How did the phone call go?” Alastor asked pointedly.

“Good.”

“Ah, great.” He smiled big and turned to face the taller male. “Shall we?” He waved his hand towards the door.

“Wait” Angel put both of his hands up. He stepped closer tentatively. “Can I touch you? Please?” He asked. His voice like that of a child begging for dessert. Alastor rolled his eyes. Angel was lucky he was in a good humor.

“Fine.” Alastor permitted. “Nothing too inappropriate.” He warned. Raising his index finger. Angel bit into his lower lip. Each stride he took was weighted. His body leaned bashfully left to right until he was too close for comfort. His thumb had slid against the nail of his index finger. Fingers curled tensely. “Well?” Alastor tilted his head when glancing up at him. Angel wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in. Alastor muscled tensed. The taller man hugged him tightly against him. Angel’s cheek nuzzled into the skin of Alastor’s neck. He was soft and warm. “Come down have you?”

“Kinda.”Angel replied. His hands rested on Alastor’s shoulders. Alastor wasn’t sure where to put his hands. The younger male wouldn’t stop rubbing against Alastor. As if it were therapeutic for him. The sensation of Angel’s middle shaking forced Alastor to place his hands on the small of his back. Angel pulled his face back and pressed his forehead on his. Alastor’s eyebrows knit again. “I can’t remember the last time a guy’s hugged me.” Angel’s lower lip had been trembling.

“Is something wrong?” Alastor mounted in suspicion. His hands went limp. Ready to slip from Angel’s form at any moment.

“No…” Angel said. Yet he didn’t end the hug. Alastor closed his grin then gave an unconvinced exhale.

“Alright then. We can go now.” He declared. Desperate to tare away. He retracted himself. The white haired boy looked wounded. Alastor disregarded it, making his way outside. The ticking of Angel’s stilettos were the only signifier of his presence behind him. The two walked in silence to dreaded room one twenty seven. Once they retrieved his journal he could be done with this place. It was a shame. He didn’t get to actually kill anyone in Vegas. He’d just have to come back one day. His fingers pinched the police tape. “Hm.” He rubbed his chin with his gloved fingers. Alastor went to turn the doorknob and it shockingly opened. His eyes rolled. “Well that’s pretty stupid.” He muttered. He looked over his shoulder at Angel. His expression softened involuntarily. “Wait, what’s wrong?” Alastor asked. He went over to Angel, who was hiding his face with his hands and trying to quietly weep. He pulled his hands away from his countenance. Angel’s nose scrunched up when he tried to inhale. Sounding like the tears made him stuffy.

“I can’t go.” He struggled to speak.

“What do you mean? What?” Alastor inquired gently. He wondered why he was being so benign with the obviously overgrown child. He wondered why he was even concerned with his tears. He wasn’t coming down. He was crashing.

“I can’t leave.” Angel lower lip was wiggling again. Tears pooling at the bottom of his eyelids as he hyperventilated. “I’d be leaving Cherri, and my dad and my brother. Valentino would be so mad he’d probably just kill me. And that’s fine because I deserve to be dead.” His speaking quickened with panic. He had to rip his hands from Alastor’s grasp to cover his face again. “I wish I was dead.” He crumbled. Angel was sitting on the pavement now, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Don’t be silly.” He spoke sternly. Alastor got down on one knee. “You’re only saying that because you’re sobering up.” Alastor began to condescend. He started to do elaborate things with his hands. Like adjusting the cardigan Angel was wearing and smoothing his hair.

“I feel so alone.” Angel choked.

“Of course you do. That’s why you’re leaving with me.” Alastor spoke in a mocking infantilized voice as he pinched Angel’s cheek. “So don’t feel bad. These people will be fine once you leave. Plus, you could always telephone them. Contacts will not be completely cut.” He made a piss poor attempt to reassure him.

“Stop it!”

  
“Stop what?”

“Talking to me like I’m a stupid kid.”

“Just because you can take a dick doesn’t mean you’re a man, dear.” The words flowed from Alastor’s lips. Fanning cruelty to Angel’s ears and breaking him completely. Angel’s face was frozen in awe or insult, or perhaps both. It wasn’t Alastor’s intention but he was very much tired of the dramatic hold up. The very least Angel could’ve done was change his mind by the time they started travelling. “What I mean is just because you do adult things doesn’t mean you’re an adult-“ Angel grunted and rose to his feet. He stormed away from the scene. Alastor sputtered his lips with annoyance. His eyes went to the now open door. He’d come this far. He could at least grab his journal then deal with Angel later.

His body urged him to move swiftly. Alastor dramatically lifted his leg to step between the police tape. Tarrying aroma of human remains elevated to his nostrils. It was familiar therefore he was unfazed. His fingers felt for the light switch then flicked it on. Alastor’s eyes scanned the messy floor. He gave a weighted sigh. His lip threatened to curl with disgust.

“What are you doing sir?” A small voice inquired. Alastor glanced over his shoulder. A young lady had been pushing a maintenance cart stopped at the crime scene. Short in stature, small in frame. Alastor mentally likened her appearance to a child. Mousy brown hair styled in a bob and a duster in hand.

“Nothing.” Alastor replied with a smug grin. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“That room is blocked off.” She told him.

“Oh is it?” He glanced upward then to the side of him. Hopefully it was convincing enough.

“Yes. It’s a crime scene. Anything inside isn’t to be disturbed. Do you need help getting out?” She asked. Alastor shook his head and forced himself out of the room. So much for that. The brunette hummed as she pulled the door closed with her small hands. She put down her duster and retrieved a large ring of keys from her waist and locked the door immediately. “Anything I can do for you?” She stared up at him.

“No, thank you for all your help.” Alastor put his arms behind his back. Walking away with haste. He did not dare to look behind him. He instantaneously went to his coupe de ville and started driving.

**+++**

This was as good of a time as any to explore the strip by foot. Parking garage prices were ridiculous but it was a necessary sacrifice. Alastor strolled with his hands deep in his pockets. If he had sensory issues he’d be overstimulated by all the commotion. Thankfully he didn’t have that problem. He did however, find the crowds quite cumbersome. Vegas was transitioning into a family vacation spot of sorts these days. If only he were able to visit in the fifties or sixties when it wasn’t this gilded cesspool. Shit with sparkling bits of diamonds and gold. No, he wanted pure unadulterated transgression. Beaming down on him like desert sunlight. No hiding. He knew it all too well. He preferred humanity. In others at least. Alastor walked pass the Flamingo unhurriedly. At least that factor hadn’t changed. The mafia strong armed their way into the narrowest of cracks. Took shelter like insects. Destroying things from the inside out. Only to leave a flimsy shell. Would it be smart to challenge the mob? Just because they have gripes with him? Alastor was too intelligent to make such a fatal move. He was still irked by their involvement in his affairs nonetheless. If he wanted to kill any of their people? It would’ve been done. Margaritaville was a tropical themed bar built into Flamingo. Alastor curiously rose his eyebrow then stepped inside the bustling venue. He weaved through the crowded tables so he could sit at the bar.

“What’ll ya have?” He heard. He picked up his head. The staff worked quickly in this place. It had been a familiar bearded face. Husk’s overly bushy furrowed brow sized up Alastor.

“Oh.” He said pleasantly. “I know you.”

“Yeah. I still need to know what you’re drinking though.”

“Old fashioned will be fine.” Alastor replied. Husk turned away to prepare his alcoholic beverage. It wasn’t extremely loud inside. He could hold up a good conversation without going hoarse. Husk returned and Alastor robotically put a twenty on the bar. Husk plucked it from the surface. “Keep the change.” He said with his hand raised. The bar top appeared to be sticky. He wouldn’t have to feel it because of his gloves, thankfully.

“You’re the weirdo from my other job.” Husk said.

“How many jobs do you have my good man?”

“Divorce and two kids ain’t cheap. I’ll tell you that much.” The bar wasn’t as active as the restaurant portion of Margaritaville. Alastor lifted the glass to his lips and drank in the bitter alcohol. “So you’ve fucked around and got in trouble with the Moretti family?”

“I suppose so. Shortly after our conversation I found myself in quite the predicament.”

“Then why are you hanging out on their turf? You suicidal?”

“Nostalgia. Everything around here seems very family friendly.” Alastor lifted his fingers to mime quotes. Husk leaned his elbow on the bar. “Looks like you work for them.”

“A man has to do what he has to do.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. Alastor took another gulp of his drink. "You've got a pair of brass balls on you."

“A fair response.” Alastor nodded his head.

“Did you kill the bastard?”

“Me? No, no. However, I know who did. That isn’t for me to tell.”

“You are as smart… as you look… I guess.” Husk began to wipe down the bar to no avail. “Why didn’t you just tell Aaron that?”

“There was nothing worthwhile he offered in exchange for the information.” He spoke plainly. “I have little reason to worry about the Morettis anyway. They aren't even on my radar.”

“Why? Cause you’re fucking Henry Moretti’s kid?”

“Goodness gracious! Please don’t be vulgar.” Alastor recoiled. He polished off the last of his old fashioned. He slammed the glass onto the bar. “And shamelessly in the light of day.”

“You’re at a bar. Everyone here is an adult.” Husk retorted condescendingly. “I talked to the kid the other day. You roughed him up like that? Or was that his pimp?”

“Our partnership is free of perversion thank you very much. I think you know the answer to the latter inquiry. I don’t very much enjoy being questioned barman.” Alastor rose from his stool. “I think I should leave-“

“Sit down asshole. The cyclops already said you was one of his tricks. I’m not stupid.”

“Neither am I.” Husk and Alastor stared at each other for a moment. Up until something caught Alastor’s peripheral. A plump woman, probably his own age range, stumbling about the bar portion of Margaritaville. He was always a sucker for an inebriated victim. Alastor noticeably set his gaze on her.

“Hello?!” Husk slammed his hand on the bar. Alastor’s attention snapped back to him immediately. He began to chortle at the other man.

“You know, I like you.” He said. Husk looked perplexed and annoyed. Ah, there it was. The drink kicked in AND he got serotonin. Two for one. “You’re an interesting fellow. We should become more acquainted. So that I can help you understand the situation? Since your mind is leading you to such simplistic justifications.” Alastor’s smile remained strong on his visage. Husk still looked irritated from the condescension. All while on the other end of the bar was a bag of meat and blood just waiting to be cut open. Husk waved his hand, implying that Alastor should begin to elucidate. He sat down and leaned his elbows on the edge of it. He let words delicately flow from his grinning mouth with charisma and meaning. Creating a new ally while minding his prey.

* * *

**ANGEL, JULY 28 TH 1998**

**10:22 PM**

Pleasant Valley Mobile Home Park was drenched in darkness when Angel finally arrived. He took off his heels when his feet touched the sand of his ‘neighborhood’. Loud trucks swooshed past. The mobile homes subtly vibrated from the force of the large vehicles. It smelled of barbecue and Budweiser. When Angel made it to his trailer he sat on the small set of steps to rest. He’d been walking for hours and no amount of drugs assuaged his pain. His long legs splayed wide with his elbows resting on his knees. There was nothing ladylike about how he was sitting. An older gentleman approached. Brunette hair hidden under a backwards trucker’s cap. Not the most athletic body. An avian like nose and awkward posture. He was Angel’s neighbor. He attempted daintiness for his sake, closing his legs and pouting when he looked up at him.

“Hey, you’re back!” He forced a smile on his face and his voice cracked. It was hilarious considering he was easily pushing forty.

“Hi Travis.” Angel greeted in a monotone. “Did you feed Fatty while I was gone?”

“Yep. Just like you asked. Can I come in?”

“Your wife isn’t home?”

“She’s at work right now.”

“Whatever.” Angel stood. He pulled his dress down lethargically then jogged up the steps. Angel slammed the rickety door open for Travis then went over to his pet mini pot bellied pig: Fat Nuggets. Boy was he glad to see him. He snorted with glee at the sight of him. At least someone wanted him around. He held back tears while cuddling Fat Nuggets. The light by his bed illuminated the end of the trailer. Just as he left it. Fat Nuggets’ toys scattered the floor but he didn’t mind. He needed to be entertained while Angel was gone. He wished he wasn’t gone so often.

“Sooo…” Travis trailed off. He’d forgotten he came in after him. “I know you probably had a long day but, do you wanna make some extra cash?” Angel sat on his faded pink comforter and crossed his legs. Not even a minute home with his fur baby and he had to think about work again. He rose his shoulders listlessly.

“Yeah. I got time for an impromptu appointment.” Fat Nuggets wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in Angel’s lap but he had to gently place him in his pet bed on the floor. He started to pull off Alastor’s cardigan. He grew weary of it halfway through, allowing it to remain under him on his comforter. He leaned his body to pull the metal chord of his bedside lamp then laid on his back in the darkness. The blinds of his double wide windows had been drawn closed. Travis’ ominous silhouette menaced in the darkness when he reached the bed. He saw his hands go to his jeans to unbuckle his belt. It would’ve been terrifying but the tumultuous day left Angel unfeeling. He just needed at least some money for Val to snatch.

“Usual price?”

“Yeah.” As if on cue Travis inhaled deeply and attacked. His face dove into the bend betwixt Angel’s head and shoulder. His dry lips kissed Angel’s swan-like neckline. Coarse hands moved to the straps of his slip dress and pulled it down. Hastily he tried to undress him. Angel turned his head to face the wall adjacent to his bed. Travis’ fists grabbed Angel’s underwear and yanked them down around his ankles. The only constant of the interaction had been the overwhelming emptiness that plagued Angel’s entire being. Travis’ head disappeared underneath the lower half of Angel’s dress. He contrived the pleasure. He did for most tricks. As soon as the other man’s warm mouth consumed his member his heart still ached. From his bruised form, being fragmented so unkindly by Alastor, and worst of all? Molly judging him. Travis’ head was bobbing now. Angel appreciated the foreplay but he wanted the transaction to be finished sooner than later. He forced himself to moan. In spots it did feel good alas he was too busy meandering on the insignificance of his actuality. Travis ascended. His hand reached for Angel’s lube on the end table sloppily. He waited for him to get his desperately eager erection inside of him. Angel winced when he was penetrated. Travis gently turned his head to look up at him and still he thought Alastor. He was beginning to hate the mental correlations. The bed rocked with each propel of Travis’ hips. Its frame was poorly reinforced, made with cheap metals and hastily built. Screws squeaked under Travis’ chorus of heavy breathing. Like a terrible dance song a DJ put on mistakenly.

“You’re so beautiful.” One of his hands went down Angel’s cheek then down his chest. Travis could only thrust but so fast. This wasn’t Angel’s first rodeo with him. They slowed almost after he had the thought. Followed by Travis cursing under his breath. Angel glanced at his electric clock radio for the time: 10:48 PM. It felt so much longer than that. Travis was close. He was giving Angel slow exhausted strokes that implied as much. Angel exhaled through his nose and glanced up at Travis, who was sweating profusely. He never realized how bad sex had gotten for him.

“I should take you away from all this.” Travis told Angel. “Save you, y’know? You wouldn’t have to walk the streets.” He rambled. His hand went to Angel’s cheek in a vain attempt of being romantic or tender. Whatever pathetic attempt at significance he was aiming for. He missed it by a long shot. Angel didn’t smack Travis’ hand away but, his rigidity was deliberate. He forced his hand away from his face. He wanted Travis out of his body and out of his trailer.

“As if.” Angel whispered. He crossed his arms over his chest to shield himself from an imaginary threat. Turning his body to face away from the other man. He frowned.

“Fine.” His voice became deep and gravelly. Travis slammed Angel’s payment on the foldable kitchen table and exited the trailer noisily. “Whatever, fucking tranny whore.” He called out on his departure. Angel could finally crumble into a pile of tears now that Travis was gone. His was body sore from holding the sadness in for so long. Fat Nuggets came to his rescue. He just needed this moment at rock bottom. He needed to fall apart for a minute. Then he could go back to pretending everything was normal.   
  


* * *

**ALASTOR JULY 29 TH 1998**

**1:00 AM**

Alastor and Husk spoke throughout the night. He was even patient when Husk had to attend to his duties. He didn’t say that Angel killed the mob fellow but he did explain that he was attempting to help him. Alastor felt he looked courteous in mentioning it. It was always good to save face. Husk was still apprehensive but it didn’t matter. He had him engaged, hooked into the chain. He didn’t even order other drinks the rest of the night. He was beginning to enjoy Husk. Once the shapely woman was leaving he had to get out. He could never chase. It needed to be seamless. Alastor was smooth about it. He could tell Husk didn’t suspect a thing. From there, he would get his fill of his own intoxication. His own pleasure. And it had been so long. He desired it so deeply. He spoke briefly with the woman while she smoked outside of Margaritaville. He pretended to smoke as well. All it did was remind him of Angel but he had to focus on the present. He convinced her enough. She happily agreed to accompany him back to his hotel room just off the strip. The promise of a nightcap. So she walked with him to the parking garage and waited for him to get his vehicle. Purposeful tactics. The attendant didn't see her, she wouldn't hear his name. The usual. It wasn’t hard for him to charm women. They played into his hand each time. His sheer ability to charm was unsurpassed. Perhaps he was conventionally attractive too but he relied on personality. People were easy to manipulate. Even when people despised him. They could never get enough of him. She told him her name at one point. There was no need. He’d forgotten as soon as he pulled into the dark shoulder of Dean Martin drive. No women of the night were anywhere to be seen. Perfectly deserted.

“Why are we stopping?” She asked with a flirtatious look. Alastor smiled at her calmly.

“Sorry, just a moment. Wait here my lovely.” Alastor’s gloved index finger tickled her chin. He politely excused himself so he could go to his trunk. He prudently selected his technique for the night. Of course chloroform was the cliché option. Usually he was more calculated but he desired death so ferociously. It had been like masticating to him. The life leaving another was his sustenance. He needed to be satiated. Rope would suffice, for the initial kill at least. The woman gave an aura of anxiety from his passenger seat. Good thing she had been too drunk to try and leave. She was having a cat nap when he left his trunk. He kept it open to not raise suspicion.

He slinked along the side of his car then surprised her from behind. He pulled the door open. He draped the rope around her neck like a feather boa the pulled back with all his strength. She choked loudly. His rope tightened as he looped then ends further around his hands. He kept tightening. Satisfaction began to sprout in the pit of his stomach as her eyes bulged out of her head. Her fingers scratched violently at the rope, missing each time and slashing her nails into her own flesh. Leaving red angry lacerations. She desperately whimpered and gasped for air. His heart beat harder in his chest. Alastor refused to let up. His victim fell limp. Heat rose from Alastor’s cheeks. Her hands no longer tried to free herself of the rope. They only attempted to reach backward at him. Once she was down for the count he let her fall out of his car into the sand with a thud. He panted as he leaned against his car. Trying to regain his composure of course. He unfurled the rope from around her throat. Alastor wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm. He crouched down and stared at the woman’s lifeless face. He laughed breathlessly. “Smile dear. Smile!” Her countenance had been frozen in terror. Eyes open and looking at him. He lifted the corners of her mouth. Alastor noticed a twitch near her eye. He clicked his tongue in reply. “Don’t do that.” He admonished. He gripped her head tightly and snapped her neck. There was no time to dawdle. He surely wasn’t done with her but he had to put her in the trunk before someone drove by. Alastor slammed the trunk closed. His body was still vibrating from the kill. He looked at himself in his side mirror, his hair hung out of place and his face flushed. Just like each and every other time. He got into his vehicle. He was only getting started.


	8. Gangsta's Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the weekend and Val wants his "employees" to make him some money. Alastor is still enthralled by his last kill and burns for more. 
> 
> TW: More mean transphobic/homophobic words at my precious bean Angel. Also the f-slur. Also TONS of drug use in this chapter. 
> 
> Nothing else besides that. Thanks for reading everybody! You're the best.

**ANGEL JULY 30 TH 1998 **

**9:35 AM**

He considered mobile homes an acquired lifestyle. Though there was nothing mobile about them? They were still reminiscent of vehicles in shape to him. But what did he know? Over the years he’d made the space his own. Adding various beanie babies and cute items he’d collected over the years. Some of it was things he’d had since his parent’s divorce. When they initially moved to the west coast. He tried to take everything. He couldn’t redeem the sentimental value in his adulthood. Everything was meaningless for lack of a better temperament. It was just stuff. It made his trailer look cool though. Nobody could call him a homo for all the cute shit he owned now. Some silver linings existed he supposed. His over ear headphones hung around his neck. Connected to his disk man. An orange CD spun inside. Tragic Kingdom by No Doubt. ‘Just a Girl’ played faintly. He was sitting up on his bed in an oversized colorful collared shirt with various oblong shapes and zig zags. His pink bong resting on his thigh. Fat Nuggets nuzzled his hip playfully on the other side.

“Go back to bed.” Angel said to the tiny animal. Fat Nuggets disobeyed but he was adorable about it so he didn’t mind. His hand deep inside a neon yellow fanny pack. The word: ‘drugs’ boorishly scrawled on the exterior in black sharpie. Stems and seeds of weed. Barely enough coke to numb his gums. A syringe? He wasn’t even sure what the fuck that was. “Fuuuuccck.” He hissed. He put the tiny bits of cannabis together in the bowl of his bong. His mouth sucked the vapors of the bubbling green filmed water inside. Angel didn’t cough after the bong rip. Angel wanted to be sure. He brought his lighter to the bowl again. As the water simmered he inhaled with more effort. The back of his throat tickled. He coughed while sticking out his tongue. Smoke expelling in every direction of the bedroom. Fat Nuggets stared curiously up at him. “Don’t judge daddy.” He pointed his index finger at him. Either he just poisoned himself or he’d get high. He just had to wait to find out. He turned off his CD player. Angel pulled off his shirt as he walked to his bathroom. Off came his underwear after. Hot running water and Mr. Bubble filled the tub the same time to start a bath. When white foam rose high enough he submerged himself. Maybe he was a teensy bit high. It wasn’t big enough to be comfortable. His head was between his thighs with his knees bent. The peaked at the surface of the water. He screamed underneath. Bubbles forced to the surface while he did so. When he needed to go up for air he gasped. His drenched bangs hanging over his face. Angel sputtered his lips then proceeded to wash up.

Angel got out of his bathtub and put his pink towel around his waist. He stared at his reflection in the cloudy mirror. Prickly dark brown hairs had the audacity to reach the surface of his peach skin. Scattered above his upper lip and chin. Ugh, facial hair. Angel was mostly healed. Outwardly at least. It was Saturday morning. That meant he couldn’t hide in the trailer park with his pig anymore. He had to get back to the strip or at least Vegas Castle. His pink lip novelty phone let out an ear piercing ring. He smoothed his soaking wet hair back against his skull and went to answer the shrill call to action.

“Yellow?” Angel greeted, taking a seat on his bed. Fat Nuggets instantly went to his lap. He involuntarily began to pet him. 

“Yo! Angie, you gotta get back to the Castle ASAP. We finally found out where Blitz was. Some john trapped him in a room at Luxor! This whole fucking time. Everybody is hanging out in the room.” Cherri spoke a mile a minute. Angel became visibly exhausted at the conversation.

“Why?” He asked.

“I’m getting to that! So tonight apparently there is some stupid heavyweight fight. Tons of high rollers flooding the casinos. Val wants us all up in their asses. Turn them upside down and shake the money out of their pockets.” Angel frowned widely while listening to Cherri. Her hurried words and lack of taking breaths between worried him more than actually going back.

“You took some of Penny’s speed or somethin’?”

“You’re trippin bitch. Only a little!” 

“Did you suck him off?”

“No!” Cherri barked in a deep voice. “Okay like, a little… But he’s a scrub. I don’t want to use my own coin for drugs! He so came super-fast! Like it barely counted.” She rationalized. Angel shook his head slowly while she spoke. Cherri definitely liked him or he liked her. Or maybe they liked each other but they were both too toxic to admit it? Bitch, how you suck dick ‘a little’? What was wrong with straight people? His mind wandered from the whole mess of it.

“Okay bitch I believe ya! How soon ya need me?” He muttered. “I just got out the tub. I need somebody to pig sit Fatty.” Though Angel wanted to avoid the motel at all costs he knew he had to go. He had no idea how to reconcile the last interaction he had with Alastor. But maybe he wouldn’t even see Alastor. Maybe he left without him?

“Val said to get your boney ass down here soon or he’ll bust a cap in it.”

“That’s not what he calls it when he’s balls deep in it. Isn’t he there?”

“Nah. He’s out picking up our clothes for the night. He said don’t get any piss, shit or cum on them or he’ll also bust a cap in all our asses.” Cherri said. “I guess he’s buying then returning the shit tomorrow? He’s an idiot. He can’t kill all of us. And then get a new set of bitches? Please!” 

“Tell him there’s gonna be drugs!” Angel heard Blitzo shout amongst background noise. 

“Blitz said there’s gonna be drugs-“

“Yeah, yeah. I heard him. I’m coming. I’ll see ya soon okay Cherri?” Angel rose from where he’d been sitting. He had been dry at that point anyway. “Peace.”

“Okay bet. We’ll be here!” Cherri replied. She hung up the phone so he did the same. Angel inhaled deeply. He didn’t get super dressed up. He would have to change once he got there. He put on his oversized denim Tommy Hilfiger overalls and a tank top. He couldn’t ask Travis to watch his beloved Fat Nuggets. Maybe Travis’ wife? He picked up the pig and nuzzled him as he went for his door. When he stepped outside his trailer he waved in her direction.

“Hey I gotta go to work. Can you check up on Fatty? Feed him? I’m probably not gonna be back until like Monday morning. Maybe even play with him so he doesn’t get sad?” Angel nervously requested. His fingers gently played with Nugget’s ear. She nodded at him. He exhaled with semi-ease. Angel didn’t want to leave him. “Daddy has to go again but I promise I’ll be back and I love you, okay?” Fat Nuggets acted like he didn’t know what the hell Angel was saying. Still, he kissed his little head repeatedly. “He likes to play around in the sand but also give him a bath after. His food should be in the cabinet under the sink-“ 

“Angel, I know. Just head to work.” She very kindly took Fat Nuggets from his arms. “I’ve got this.”

“Thanks!” Angel called out. He jumped down into the sand and jogged towards the highway. He always worried when he walked away from people they talked shit about him. He didn’t even have a chance to see if she would mutter under her breath. Probably call him a homo, or a whore. Both things were true but they still hurt. He walked alongside the highway with his thumb out. Several cars and trucks zoomed by. It was to be expected. Highway murder was pretty common at one point. He always thought of Aileen Wuornos whenever he attempted to hitchhike. Even though that whole mess happened when he was about ten it still stuck with him. Being a sex worker and a cross dressing gay man? It could’ve easily gone very awry. People were also homophobic assholes. They probably didn’t want to pick him up. A pick-up truck slowed at last. A graying man with a scraggly beard.

“Where you headed?” He asked over the various chaotic sounds of the road. Angel leaned into the vehicle dramatically. His butt instinctively sticking up in the air.

“Vegas Castle Motel.” Angel answered.

“Cash, grass or ass?” The old man continued to question.

“I can suck ya dick on the way?” Angel’s hand curled into a fist. It mimed stroking a cock spiritedly. The man opened the door for Angel after looking around. Always a trade about who wanted to bust a nut. Thank god for closeted grandpas. Angel climbed inside and closed the passenger side door loudly. The elderly man was already freeing his member. The enthusiasm peeved him. Angel leaned over and lowered his face into the man’s lap. The man returned to advancing the highway. Closer to his destination.

**+++**

The truck came to a halt. Thankfully the trade came too. Angel picked up his head and looked at the exterior of the motel. The back of his hand instinctively wiped his lips.

“Thanks mister!” He said as he got out the truck. He waved at him and jogged away. He kept his head down while walking. Angel didn’t turn to glance at Alastor’s room. He picked up the pace until he reached the room. His knuckles drummed again the frame of the door. Blitzo appeared in the doorway and pulled it open for Angel.

“Wow you’re here already.” Blitzo commented. “Oh em gee, Angel! You look like a man.” Blitzo’s eyes had widened with terror while speaking hurriedly. He stepped to the side as Angel went inside. Angel collapsed on one of the beds face down. He let out a defeated guttural groan. “Shut up. We can fix it! But remember! I’m the only butch allowed in this stable.”

“I think he looks hot.” Cherri interrupted. She forcibly turned Angel on his back. He stared up at the two as they hovered him. Cherri mindlessly adjusted her sports bra. Her mom jeans hung loosely off her waist. “Not everybody has androgyny down to a science.” She turned to glance at Blitzo, he was average height. Angel supposed Blitzo was the butch compared to him. It didn’t matter. His straight black hair had been parted down the middle to create the illusion of bangs. His medium build fit his body well though. He was wearing an oversized sweater and shorts today. Sometimes a drawl peeked out from behind his conscientious speaking voice. Angel always forgot to ask where the fuck he was from.

“Those bangs are terrible.” Angel strained to speak.

“There he is!” Cherri cheered. She forced him to sit up. Blitzo began to pout and attempted to slick his hair back with his hands.

“I’ll just go get the razor from the bathroom…” He trailed off. Summer and Dia. His other ‘co-workers’ hung out on the other bed. Cuddling together while they watched the muted television. They were definitely already high. Angel rolled his eyes at them. Blitzo went to the bathroom just like he said he would. Probably to secretly fix his hair too.

“Where are the drugs?” He asked. Cherri sat beside him on the bed and leaned her head on his shoulder. “You guys said there would be drugs.” Angel began to fuss.

“Not yet, probably when Val gets back. I got some Jack Daniels. We could get blazed though.” She got up to grab her purse then plopped down again. “Want some?” She held the heavy glass bottle in her hand. It was already halfway done. Angel nodded his head and took it from her. He gulped the liquid down without thinking. He tried not to cough as his esophagus burned. He handed the bottle back to Cherri. She drank as well. Unlike Angel she swallowed it easily. Blitzo returned from the bathroom and sat on the bed with them. His hair was literally dripping. Smoothed to one side of his head. He took the Jack Daniel’s next. His other hand holding a dollar store razor. No conditioner, no shaving cream. He was NOT shaving Angel’s face dry. Razor burns and ingrown hairs were the bane of his existence. Cherri began to break up the nugget into smaller pieces. “How’d you get here so fast Angie? Your creepy hottie boyfriend pick you up?” He winced from the question. It made him realize he missed Alastor. That last thing he needed on his mind.

“Some trade picked me up. Did a number on my jaw.”

“Girl.” Blitzo rose his eyebrows at Angel. He smirked and placed his free hand on his chest. “I love a good trade.” He then screwed the bottle cap on then put it on an empty spot beside him.

“You would, do you even like sex? Or do you just like stuff?” Cherri held back her laughter. Her hands searched her pockets then she pulled out her wrapping papers.

“I mean… You’re kind of a trade yourself Blitz. You go both ways. More like any way I mean.” He said. He became antsy when waiting for Cherri to finish rolling the joint.

“Shady.” She snickered at the exchange.

“Don’t go there.” He rose his hand at Angel with a roll of his eyes. The tip of Cherri’s tongue ran along the edge of the semi-rolled spliff.

He and Cherri laughed. Angel wasn’t feeling it today. He took hold of the bottle and reopened it. He threw the drink back and swallowed hard. Anything to make the moment more bearable. She ran the lighter over the sealed joint. Her freckled hands passed the joint to Angel first. She was a doll. She obviously could tell he was jonesin’ for something. He took the lighter from her. Angel sparked up the ganja. Hungrily, he breathed it in. Doing his best to hold the vapors in his chest.Angel exploded with coughs. She lethargically patted his back. Giving the illusion of aide. She took the joint from him.

“Yoink!” Blitzo took the joint. Angel was finally starting to feel it. Haze overshadowed his mind in waves. “Look, Angel’s eyes are red.” Blitzo leaned into Cherri before he started cackling.

“Stop it asshole. He needs it.” Cherri’s giggles wilted. Her hand began to rub his shoulder in a soothing motion.

The door opened very suddenly. Angel jumped up from the bed. Ready to be yelled at for just existing. Cherri tried to pull him back down beside her. Valentino moseyed inside. His fingers curled into the hangers of the clothes he was carrying. The motel drug plug followed in behind him: Vox. Adorned in a tacky Hawaiian shirt, shorts and a backwards cap. Angel clenched his fists. He wanted whatever paraphernalia he was carrying in his backpack.

“Don’t just sit around you bitches. Get ready.” Valentino tossed the plastic covered outfits onto the bed where Summer and Dia was. “And where’s the money from the other day?” He went to hang over Angel. Grabbing him by his neck then pulling him closer. Angel reached into the large pockets of his overalls. He handed over the bills with shaky fingers. Val took the money and released him. “Tuck the tags.” He instructed as he counted the bills. He didn’t look happy. Angel couldn’t stop glancing at Vox. “Ugh. Give them something to pick them up.” Valentino definitely noticed the hunger for a high. So Vox obliged. He unzipped the bag and took out a brick of cocaine.

“And don’t you hog any of it!” Val added. He sat down and crossed his arms impatiently. Angel wanted a few bumps. Maybe just a bit more. To tide him over while he got ready.

* * *

**ALASTOR JULY 30 TH 1998**

**5:45 AM**

“It’s fifteen minutes to six AM on a beautiful clear skied Saturday. You’re listening to 102.3 FM KDOX and this is California Dreamin’ by The Mamas & Papas.” His car radio announced. The chiming of the string guitar provided a sweet savor just before the singing started. How could anyone listen to anything other than the classics? His coupe de ville’s top was down. Wind swished through his dark brown mane. With one gloved hand on the steering wheel he whizzed down I-15. Dawn created a marvelous gradient on the empty highway. He put both hands on the wheel for turns. Large trucks periodically drove in the same direction. He wasn’t incredibly concerned. It was his final stop of the night. He’d scattered the meaty ravaged remains of his victim throughout the highways. Whenever he found a nice patch of sand with some shrubs surrounding he stopped. Then he dug and chucked whatever part he saw fit. He turned into Loop road. Alastor skillfully pulled in to the shoulder in reverse. He needed to obstruct the view of any passersby. Though it was unlikely that a normal civilian would stop at this hour. Paint it Black by The Rolling Stones began to play. He didn’t turn off the radio when he parked. Music brought about a jovial humor. Another state he’d probably be more discreet. But here? In Sin City? It had been another day. He popped the trunk open at the start of Mick Jagger vocalizing. A lonely bloodied ripped sheet wrapped around a cylindrical object. He put it in one hand and his shovel in the other. Alastor carefully looked around then walked deeper into the patch of desert. He threw down the miscellaneous body part. The blade of his shovel pierced the sand. He lobbed the contents over his shoulder. Alastor whistled with the music. He gleefully repeated the motion. Once the hole was even and deep enough he tossed the part inside. Now all he had to do was fill the hole. His eyes glanced upward every few scoops. Nothing passed directly by. There was a road above Loop but whatever trucks passed couldn’t glance down at him without crashing. And he seldom heard the trucks anyway. His feet cheerily made their way back to his car. The shovel resting on his shoulder as he did so. He tossed it inside his trunk and loudly shut it. Alastor brought himself to the driver's seat so he could head back to Vegas Castle. Endorphins ran high in him as he merged back onto the highway. Periodically he glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror. Alastor could swear that each time he killed he looked ruddy. He wore the glow with pride.

The sun was fully up by the time he returned to Vegas Castle. Husk stood outside smoking. Alastor parked and got out. Whistling as he approached the other man.

“You’re in an annoyingly merry mood.” Husk said. “As usual.”

“The outlook is bright my friend!” Alastor twirled his room keys around his finger. “May I partake?” he held out his empty hand for a cigarette. Husk gave him a puzzled look as he indulged him. Taking a single cigarette out and giving it to him. Alastor placed it between his smiling lips. Husk lit the coffin nail for him. A true professional. “Gee Husker. You are the homeliest cigarette girl I’ve met.”

“Shut up.” He sighed then took a drag.

“Will I see you at the bar later?”

“No. I’m gonna be at tables tonight. Big night for gambling. There’s a prize fight.” He explained.

“Hm. I was never a fan of boxing.”

“I don’t care about the fight. I care about all the people throwing money at the poker table at the MGM casino also roulette… And craps.” Husk paused as he lowered his head. “I don’t have a problem.” Alastor took a coy inhale of the cigarette.

“Mhm.” He nodded his head with a condescending smile. “Perhaps I’ll accompany you then?”

“If we take your car? Sure. It's be great to have a designated driver.” He pointed in the direction of the coupe. Alastor shrugged his shoulders.

“Then designated drive I shall!” He answered. Alastor very much wasted his cigarette. Only taking a few more pulls then tossing it to the street. “What time should I meet you?”

“Dunno, around eight or something.” He flicked his cigarette too and turned for the door. Alastor gave him a firm nod then walked to his room while humming. His nose high in the air. Husk seemed to be his good luck charm. Perhaps he’d find more targets tonight? Only time would tell.

* * *

**ANGEL, JULY 30 TH 1998**

**8:35 PM**

Everyone piled into the stretch limo with Valentino. Angel stared at his chipped bare nails. He wished he could’ve gotten some new acrylics to go with his outfit. The dress Val picked out for him was a sparkly backless evening gown, a single spaghetti strap and a plunging v neckline. Half his head of hair up in a ponytail and the rest underneath hanging loose and his bangs pinned back with butterfly hair clips. Classy but also school girl. What did Val expect when he was made to style himself? When he sat he crossed his legs and clutched his white faux fur boa. Cherri came in after him. Her hair styled to hide her beige eye patch. Very Jessica Rabbit if Jessica Rabbit were short and her dye job was bad.

“You look so pretty.” She nudged him with her silk gloved elbow. Her dress was a neon pink mermaid halter made of silk. Or a knock off silk like fabric?

“You do too.” Angel smiled down at her. He took a compact mirror out ‘his’ purse. Observing the glittering eyeshadow and lipstick. Cherri took the compact immediately. Val came in after Blitzo and the rest. An oversized suit had been his costume along with a long fur coat. Who the fuck did he think he was? Snoop Dogg? He sat on the other side of Angel. His hand inappropriately parked on his thigh.

“You look good enough to eat, Angel cakes.” He lowered his head to whisper into Angel’s ear. Angel turned his head away from him uncomfortably. A grimace forming on his lips. He pointed to the front of the limo and it began to roll forward. Cherri pursed her lips as she flirted with her reflection.

“Can we have some money for the bar?” She requested indolently. Val was busy digging his fingers into Angel’s flesh. It was as if he couldn’t contain himself. Even in the presence of the others he wanted to take him right there, and it wouldn’t be the first time. God forbid Blitzo or Cherri were MIA. Summer and Dia were useless bitches who turned a blind eye. Blitzo’s gaze did consciously avert from Angel and Val. He toyed with his shiny black suit jacket. Probably because he didn’t have a shirt on underneath it.

“You know. This tag is pretty itchy-“ Blitzo began to speak.

“Don’t you take off that fucking tag!” Valentino snapped. Angel realized it was deliberate. His hand tore from his thigh so he could threaten Blitzo. He smiled a little at him for it. Val sat back but he kept his hands to himself. Notorious B.I.G. boomed on the radio just as they rolled pass the bustling Vegas strip. “And you’ll get money in a fucking second. Hold your horse.”

“Horses-“ Cherri corrected.

“Shut up before I put out that other fucking eye!” Val yelled. Cherri was so unfazed it was comedic. Angel envied how much she didn’t fear him. She clapped the compact closed vociferously. Her purple colored lips pressed tightly against each other. She gave Valentino an unimpressed look. Her eyebrow raised with challenge. Silently she egged him on. He turned his attention elsewhere. His fingers went into his fur coat.

“This money is for drinks. Don’t go spending it on anything fucking stupid.” Val gave out money to each of them begrudgingly.

“Something about this feels… Very communist.” Blitzo said under his breath. Cherri stuck her tongue out at Val then turned away. Valentino poured some cocaine onto the surface of his knuckles, making all of them take the bump before getting out the limo. When they exited the vehicle they all walked alongside Valentino. They walked through the ritzy crowded MGM lobby into the casino. Many eyes settled on them. Summer and Dia each clamped themselves on Val’s arms. A mist of cigarette smoke towered above the populated casino.

“You bitches go and make me some money.” He laughed, smacking Cherri and Angel’s ass. Cherri started to growl. Angel had to push her back to stop her from ripping him apart. They dispersed. All but Cherri, Angel and Blitzo. They moseyed over to the bar. Standard prostitute tactic. There was a sea of people in the casino. Angel looked to Cherri for some type of comfort. She hissed and waved her hand at him.

“Guys, check it out.” She whispered. She opened her purse, showing the remainder of the brick of cocaine Vox was supposed to keep at the motel. Angel’s mouth hung open with surprise. He started to laugh.

“Cher, you’re fucking amazing.” He said quietly. “You precious fucking pick pocket.” He pushed her shoulder mischievously then pinched her cheek. Blitzo seemed excited but something also distracted him. “What?” Angel asked.

“That’s one of my regulars over there.” Blitzo said. Angel and Cherri glanced across at one of the roulette tables. A tall primped man in a suit stood. Hands clenched as he watched the little black and red wheel mechanism spin.

“Ooooh, Stolas. The politician guy.” Cherri said in a small voice.

“Looks like I don’t have to shake any pockets tonight. I’ll see you guys around.” Blitzo aired self-satisfaction as he approached the man. To Angel’s surprise the client was ecstatic to see him.

“More drugs for us baby.” Angel turned to face Cherri. He cocked an eyebrow at her. She grinned surreptitiously up at him.

Cherri and Angel burst into the ladies bathroom, startling all women within their vicinity. They pushed their way to the closest stall. She got on her knees first. Putting a small pile of power on the shiny black seat of the toilet to start. Angel leaned over eagerly. His hands resting on his knees. They exchanged wide grins. Cherri used one of her fifty dollar bills to sloppily divide the coke into lines. She rolled it up into a cylinder and began to snort. She shared her makeshift straw with Angel and he went to town. He finally felt better. The depression dissipated with each strained beat of his heart. They tried to think of creative ways to ingest the Bolivian marching powder. He put coke on the inside of his index finger and forced his best friend to snort it then she did the same for him. The two of them placed bumps on their opposite hands. Angel and Cherri linked arms then sniffed the powder off the other’s hand. Cherri’s long gloves had white residue on them. Angel cackled so hard he snorted. Cherri dipped her finger into the plastic wrap that contained the coke. She forced her finger into his mouth and rubbed the powder on his gum line. Angel move his face back and forth. His head splitting from cackling so hard. He could only return the favor for Cherri. His digits were significantly larger than hers so it was more inelegant.

“Stop finger fucking my mouth!” She struggled to demand. Her words were muffled. It was a vain breathless attempt among her giggles. Angel leaned on the side of the stall for balance then went on his knees. His palms on the cool linoleum of the bathroom floor. Cherri poured out more onto the toilet seat and dived her face into it. Angel sputtered his lips and cackled loudly again. Fists drummed on the smooth black stall door. By the time they had their fill the plastic wrapped brick was reduced to a mere corner of powder. Angel wiped his nose repeatedly. He looked over to his shorter counterpart. He took it upon himself to wipe Cherri’s face. She was pale so the coke was seamlessly under her nose. Still she had to remain cute. The two came out of the bathroom with their arms linked. Angel snorted as they rejoined the crowded casino.

Cherri thrust herself onto the counter of the bar and ordered something unintelligible. Angel didn’t ask questions. His face was frozen in satisfaction. He leaned his head on his hand, watching the bar tender move. His mind raced. He faced away from the bar while Cherri waited on their drinks. He squinted his eyes at a figure quickly approaching.

“Oh fuck.” He slurred. “Cherri, Cherri!” Angel sleepily nudged her with realization.  
  
“What! What?” She turned her head so fast her hair fluttered about. She tried looking in the direction he was looking. Angel turned her body away then did the same for his own. His fingers drummed on the bar.

“Fucking Katie is coming over here.” He spoke with his teeth grit tight. Trying to move his lips minimally.

“What?” Cherri scrunched up her face.

“Fucking Katie is coming!” Angel repeated quickly.

“Well if it isn’t the she male and it’s fag hag!” Katie shouted dramatically. He blinked slowly then turned to face her. Katie placed her hands on her hips with a proud smile. Her stature stood the same as Angel’s. She was wearing a dress similar to his. It just didn’t pop on her. Wide hips but no ass or tits to speak of. Plus her hair was styled atrociously. Slicked back, unflattering. With nothing to frame her face she looked ghastly. Like a Star Trek alien.

“Oh I knew I smelled dirty diseased pussy. Hi Katie! How’s your herps?” Angel retorted.

“Katie, I didn’t know you’d be here. I always took you for a regular at Circus!Circus! Y’know cause you’re a fucking clown?” Cherri said. She leaned dramatically on the surface of the bar.

“Okay settle down hoes. I know you’re hating because of my high pay grade and tight body.” Katie smiled spitefully. “And the fact that I actually HAVE a vagina in your case RuPaul.” Her perfect manicured index finger poked into Angel’s shoulder.

“Sir Mix A Lot likes big butts and he cannot lie. Flat asses are out of style.” Cherri turned her body and hit her own rear a loud slap. 

“Hey Katie, you know. I liked that hairstyle on Bridget Neilson and Sharon Stone but it makes you look pretty mannish.” Angel grit his teeth in faux embarrassment. “Ya shoulders too wide and you don’t have enough tits to make it work.” The bartender gave them their drinks. Angel instantly started to drink.

“What do you know about proportions? Didn’t you drop out of high school because of being a crack head or something?” Katie crossed her arms over her chest. She tried desperately to draw in her shoulders.

“That’s not why I dropped out of high school.” Angel replied with a serene look. He had done too much cocaine to even process the insult.

“Did you find a husband at Yale Katie? Oh wait you didn’t. You’re in Vegas and a whore. Just like us.” Cherri glanced at her nails then pointed between herself and Angel. She carelessly splashed her beverage on the floor while speaking.

“I’m not a whore. I’m an escort. Cunt. How do you manage to be in love with a homo and have such terrible hair?”

“Shut up Katie.” Angel interjected. He took out his pack of cigarettes and began to smoke in annoyance. Katie rolled her eyes. She scoped the crowd of men in silence. She gasped dramatically.

“Who is that?!” she put her hand over her mouth. “He’s so… Debonair, exotic, tantalizing.” Katie stared hard at the man. Angel leaned dramatically to eyeball the guy too. His stomach dipped low with a mixture of hurt and panic. It was Alastor draped in what seemed to be a notch higher than his usual attire. Sporting a black suit. The only splash of color were a red pocket square and tie. Cherri spotted him too. She glanced up at Angel whose face was probably vacant.

“Katie you’re a low down bitch but don’t you go for that guy! That’s Angel’s trick.” Cherri threatened with her jaw clenched. Katie rolled her eyes at the shorter woman.

“There’s no way Angel has ever gotten a machismo like this guy. Now that you’ve given me the challenge? I’ll think I’ll be pleasuring him tonight.” She flipped the two of them bird and walked away, going straight for Alastor.

“He won’t go for it. He wouldn’t.” Angel watched carefully. Cherri put her hand on his shoulder in support. Katie forced laughter. Her hand flirtatiously ran along Alastor’s arm. She covered her the side of her mouth with her hand and whispered to him. Alastor closed his smile and offered his arm to her. The two made their way out of the casino.

“Shit Angie, I’m so sorry. He can’t help it if he’s a bastard. Most guys are.” Cherri spoke to him softly. She desperately stared up at him. Searching his face for comfort. Angel’s chest felt heavy with heartbreak. “Angie?” His mind jumped to the worst conclusions. Maybe Alastor was just toying with him this whole time? Maybe he wouldn’t sleep with him because he was some sick closeted bastard? Angel stiffened his upper lip. He put his cigarette out on the marble topped bar. 

“He owes me a fucking explanation.” He declared. Angel put his drink down on the bar counter and left Cherri behind.

His strides quickened in order to catch up with Alastor and Katie. He also needed to be undetected for when he caught them in the act. He imagined slapping the shit out of Katie’s face then telling off Alastor. They got on an elevator. Probably heading up to the rooms. As the door closed Angel watched the numbers to see what floor they got off on. The circle shaped light stopped on the 16th floor. Angel was thoughtless from the coke. He summoned another elevator and made his way to that floor. He dashed out of the elevator bank and glanced up and down the hallway. He saw Alastor and Katie at the other end to the right. He peeked at them, watching them laugh together. Alastor smirked. His hands turning Katie away by her shoulders then forcing her wrists into his palms. He gently put her own hands over her eyes. Angel stared with his mouth slightly agape. Alastor remained behind her. His hands now reaching into his suit jacket. He couldn’t watch anymore. What was even happening? Just when Angel tried to lower his head something caught his attention again. Alastor had a handkerchief. He slowly and menacingly held it over Katie’s nose and mouth. He was surprised to find that with Katie’s large stature she didn’t have more fight in her. She flailed about. Her screams consumed by Alastor’s gloved hand. Before he knew it she had gone limp and fell to the carpeted floor. Angel unknowingly gasped. Alastor instantly looked in his direction. Angel tried to flatten himself on the wall of the elevator bank. Hoping Alastor didn’t spot him. When he turned to observe Alastor seemed unfazed. He was throwing Katie over his shoulder with a soft grunt. Alastor turned to walk further down the hallway. Katie’s upper body swung limp with each of Alastor’s steps. Angel hid again. He ran to the other side of the elevator bank and into the opposite side of the floor’s hallway. He was sprinting past rooms to get to the stairs. He did have to stop to rest a moment. His heart was pumping to hard. He could barely manage breathing. A door spontaneously opened and knocked him off his feet. Angel landed on his stomach and looked over his shoulder.

“Anthony?” His ears picked up. His brother Aaron stood above him. A black fedora parked on his smoothed brunette hair. Aaron had been smoking a cigar. Two goons on each side of him. “Just the guy I was looking for.” He nodded in Angel’s direction. The large men hoisted him to his feet. They didn’t let go of his biceps. He supposed it was in case he tried to run away. He struggled in their grasp.

“Is this really necessary?” Angel asked exasperatedly.

“Yes!” The shorter man hollered. “Dad and I need ya more than ever and you’re conveniently nowhere to be found.”

“I’m not interested in helping you dickheads.”

“Ya rather be a strippa than work with ya family?”

“I couldn’t be a stripper. The club owner said I didn’t pass. Which is fair…” Angel rolled his eyes. He kept trying to shimmy out of the grasp.

“This is serious shithead. Somebody killed one of dad’s caporegimes! You frequent the motel where they found his body. So spill.” He took careful puffs of his cigar and stepped forward. Aaron stared up at Angel.

“-listen here ya short overcompensatin’, sewer smellin’, spaghetti slurpin’ stereotype!-”

“-shut ya cock gobbling mouth unless ya got somethin’ helpful to tell me. I’m not afraid to smack the shit outta-”

“-the last fucking thing I’m gonna do is help you and Henry. The guy is dead move the fuck on-”

“Anthony I will fucking slice your dick sucking throat open and dump you in Death Valley!” Aaron barked. It seemed he tired of Angel talking over him.

“I get it, I get it. You wanna be Al Pacino. You’re not Al Pacino. Trust me. I would know. You’re both short. But that’s the only similarities you two got.” Aaron backhanded Angel across the face. Angel growled and finally broke from the grip of the enforcers who tried to hold him back. He lunged at Aaron and knocked him on his back. Angel’s hands wrapped around his brother’s neck tightly.

“I’m not scared of you anymore, asshole. Run and tell daddy about it.” He hissed into Aaron’s ear. He let go of him and rose to his feet. Scowling as he looked to the two guards. “Lay off me. I’m leaving.” He put both his hands up in surrender. Angel walked towards the elevator bank, lest he’d get some more life endangering surprises.

“Let him go. He’s got a death wish.” He heard his brother say as he sauntered from the scene.

**+++**

When he found himself back inside the casino Cherri was gone. He forgotten he was supposed to be working the high rollers. The cocaine and commotion distracted him. Val wasn’t going to be happy about that. His drink was still on the bar so he finished it. Angel respired burdensomely. If he didn’t know better he’d say Alastor actually was about to do something horrifying to Katie. Of course such was the business and he wasn’t worried for her cause she was a whole asshole. Still he never took Alastor for a rapist. But the way he handled her body didn’t strike him as rape-y. Was Alastor just killing the bitch? Again, such was the business of prostitution but why? Was he gonna kill Angel and changed his mind last minute? He made eyes across the bar but the men didn’t look like they had full wallets. Things had been dying down. Angel pouted when seeing Husk at a distant poker table then Alastor approached. He patted the other man’s shoulder and Husk gave a nod. Just like that Alastor was on the move out of the casino and into the lobby. Angel jumped up and attempted to catch up with him.

Angel followed Alastor quietly as he walked the small bridge that led to the parking garage. He peeked around every corner until Alastor was outside his red coupe de ville. Angel finally took it upon himself to be noticed.

“Al?” he said. He stepped out from the dark corner he’d be hiding in. Alastor glanced over his shoulder at Angel. “I saw you with that broad.” He could barely manage words with him. He went to stand beside the other man. He pulled the boa closer to his form. Alastor looked up at him with his usual smile.

“Friend of yours?”

“No, nobody liked Katie. She won’t be missed.” Angel commented knowingly.

“I'm thankful that I'm accurately receptive. It does appear that I’ve been found out.” He laughed quietly. “I suppose we’re both killers then?” Alastor didn’t appear to be livid with Angel whatsoever. He didn’t think he would take the accusation with such grace. His eyebrows knitted as he gave the other man a worrisome glance. Alastor’s gloved hand unlocked his driver’s side door.

“I won’t tell on you.” Angel blurted out, trying to make him stay and talk with him.

“Thank you. I would very much appreciate that.”

“Why aren’t you saying sorry?”

“For what? Being a murderer?” Alastor eyes glanced at Angel but his head was stationary.

“No, for saying that mean stuff about me the other day…” Angel lowered his white haired head.

“Oh. That.” Alastor spoke inflexibly. “I truly am sorry that my apt observations hurt your feelings.” He turned all the way to Angel, shutting his eyes as he ‘apologized’. His mouth still fixed with an unwavering smirk. It was useless to even ask. Angel’s jaw set as he glared down at Alastor. “Might I add that you look very ravishing tonight?”

“How long you gonna stay in town for?” He shifted the conversation. Angel was now crossing his arms over his chest.

“I should be taking my leave in a little over a fortnight.” Alastor answered. Angel furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Uh, two weeks or so.” He seemed to sigh exasperatedly.

“Oh…” Angel whispered. “I ‘spose I’ll be seeing you around the motel then?”

“Why yes! You will!” Alastor beamed and snapped his fingers. He turned away from Angel at last. Angel in turn shifted on his heels. Watching him. Angel’s long arms reached for the collar of Alastor’s onyx suit jacket. He forced his lips against the shorter man’s. Alastor’s mouth was soft against his plump lips. To his surprise Alastor didn’t pull away. Angel’s high returned unexpectedly from the rush. Alastor resisted when Angel attempted to insert his tongue into his mouth. He stopped the kiss, sliding his hands down Alastor’s jacket then ultimately off of him. When Angel took a step back he was startled by Alastor’s gloved hands gripping the sides of his head and lowering his face once again. Their noses grazed each other clumsily as Angel melted into him.

* * *

**ALASTOR JULY 30 TH 1998**

**11:23 PM**

His eyes went wide. An insignificant kiss wasn’t terrible. No one had been around to behold it. He had plenty of innocent pecks in his life. Angel’s tongue prodded at Alastor’s virgin mouth and he was initially repulsed. Somehow Angel read his body language and pulled away. Alastor felt the desire to continue from the gesture alone. He forced his mouth back onto the younger man’s. He parted his lips and invited Angel’s feverish tongue to his. He inhaled deeply through his nose. The vacant orchestras of his mind played Cab Calloway’s St. James Infirmary to soundtrack the embrace. The scent of Angel filled him. His hands wanted so badly to clasp around that gorgeous throat. Tighten until his last syrupy breath was inside of Alastor. It would be his forever. No one would have the pleasure to experience such emotional drunkenness. Angel’s fingers clumsily reached for the door of the backseat. When he finally pried it open Alastor went to lay on his back in the backseat, why? He didn’t really know. He had no idea what he was doing in all honestly. It frightened him. Angel instinctively straddled his lap after shutting the door. He inclined forward and they sustained their chaotic and ardent making out. Alastor felt like a teenager again. His heart had been beating faster than a humming bird. Inelegantly bumping his teeth against Angel’s. Overthinking where to put his hands. He put them at Angel’s hips and the small of his back. He tried not to let them linger in either place too long so he wouldn’t seem inexperienced. Angel lifted his head and all Alastor could do was stare up at him in the darkness of the interior of the coupe. He realized he had been panting the whole time. His chest heaved like after the release of a kill. Angel began to hike up the skirt of his evening gown.

“I’ve wanted you inside me since I first met you.” He told Alastor breathily. Seducing him with a bat of his eyelashes. He was suddenly very embarrassed of his impulsivity. He hoped they wouldn’t be making the beast with two backs. The very notion made his chest tighten with panic. Angel subtly ground his pelvis against Alastor’s. Oh no. This was bad. Angel’s expression shifted with concern.

“What?” Alastor smiled nervously.

“Nothing.” Angel returned the awkward smirk. He kept his skirt hiked up but Angel resumed the kissing instead. Arguably for Alastor the kisses were just as good as sex. Wishful thinking, what was his point of reference? He hadn’t indulged in coitous in any time of his life. But Surely he was correct. He had a tendency of always being right. He kept his grip tight on Angel’s cheeks. The both of them moaned in the rhythm of their loud wet pecks. “I can’t get this dress fucked up.” He whispered to him. The words lit a flame inside of Alastor.

“Sometimes it’s okay to make a mess.” He pressed his mouth to Angel’s ear. His voice deepening with want. The usual desire of death hunger took over in the steamy space of his backseat. His other hand moved between Angel’s legs. He didn’t want to sleep with him. However he could make him feel good. Purely because he desired it. That was probably the most important part of all this. Angel’s hard dick throbbed against the leather of his glove. The taller man gasped quite loudly much to Alastor’s enjoyment. “I want to make your face all red again.” Alastor told him in a heavy breathed whisper. His tongue sliding against Angel’s cheek like he was his next meal. His hand slowly caressed Angel’s erection. Angel had been whimpering with each stroke. His body was warming in his grasp. Alastor sank his teeth into the younger male’s bottom lip. He bit so hard it broke skin. The blood met Alastor’s tongue. He began to rub Angel’s member mercilessly. His cheeks were finally flushing. “Open your eyes. I said open them.” Alastor insisted. “Look at me.” Angel’s large doe eyes settled on Alastor’s face. He squirmed in his grasp. His skin broke into a sweat. He was craving this release it seemed and now that he was being played with he could hardly contain himself.

“I’m gonna-“ He warned Alastor with a bashful stutter. His body shivered against Alastor while he climaxed. Angel twitched a few times as his load released on his gloved fingers. Alastor smirked at him. His hand retracted from Angel’s crotch.

“Now clean up your mess.” He ordered. Alastor’s mouth spoke to Angel’s ear again. Pushing hot breath into him. Angel’s mouth opened wide obediently. Alastor slowly plunged the semen covered fingers of his gloves into his mouth. Angel sat up a bit. His hand wrapped around the palm of Alastor’s hand to steady it. He slurped on his fingers loudly. His mouth deepening with each suck. Angel’s sultry lidded eyes stared sensually up at Alastor. It was enough for his stomach to go weak. Good thing Alastor mastered masking his face a long ago. He exhaled with an engaged closed mouth smile. Angel dared to bring Alastor’s fingers further into his throat. Did he even have a gag reflex? “Good boy.” He congratulated.

“Angel! What the fuck are you doing in there?” Valentino banged on the window of the backseat. Angel sat up covering himself hurriedly. Alastor lifted his body as well.

“Um, sir? Please refrain from banging your paws on the glass of my car.” Alastor asked with condescension. Angel looked embarrassed while pulling down his dress. Alastor acted as if none of it transpired.


	9. Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chickens of Saturday night come to roost in the wake of Sunday. Angel has to deal with an unpleasantness from Val and Vox. And yes, his distress tolerance skills only consists of drugs and sex. Meanwhile Alastor is sort of having an opposite reastion. 
> 
> TW: Sexual Assault in this chapter, that's probably why it took so long to write bruh just the implication is perturbing. Also vicious vicious self judgement idk if people get triggered by that but I know I AM having a lot of issues with self judgement so I figure the heads up is considerate at least. Also the mention of death, pressures of toxic masculinity etc. Enjoy guys.

**ALASTOR JULY 31 ST 1998 **

**12:10 AM**

Valentino didn’t take the request well. He pulled the backseat door open then snatched up Angel with a quickness. Alastor got out of the car after them, hands firmly in his pockets and giving the two a cool stare.

“What do you want?” Angel asked him. His voice lowered. Valentino’s hand wouldn’t budge from the younger man’s forearm.

“Tell me this fucking asshole paid you for that!” He yelled. Angel lowered his head with shame. Alastor began to feel awkward from simply watching.

“No…”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because it wasn’t a job thing… It was a emotion thing.”

“You wanted that creep to fuck you!?”

“I dunno…Yes? Maybe?” Angel began to stammer.

“How many other guys are there?”

“Uh, I’ll just… Speak with you later Angel.” He called out from his lowered driver’s side window. Alastor’s eyes were wide when he pulled out of his parking space. His tires skid loudly when he sped away. He couldn’t get further away from that cluster fuck sooner. Alastor pulled out into the street of the parking garage. He glanced at his reflection. His cheeks flushed red. In hindsight Alastor was incredibly ashamed of his behavior. He needed to snap out of it. He could admonish himself later. When arriving to the exit of the garage Husk was there waiting. Just as requested. He got in the car. Husk looked around with suspicion. He rose an eyebrow and turned to Alastor.

“What?” He asked.

“Does the car smell different?” Husk waved his hand a little. He rolled down the window on his side.

“I haven’t a clue what you’re referring to.” Alastor smiled. He began to make his way to the highway as if everything were normal.

“It smells… Like sweat and something else.”

“No it doesn’t.” 

“How are you telling me what I’m smelling?”

“I’m not. I’m just telling you that you’re wrong.”

“Is that-” Husk paused. “Did you piss your pants?” At the light Alastor glanced down at his slacks and observed the small circled spot. That explained a lot. Still, he’d gone too far now. No time to back track. Stick with the lies.

“Yes.” He answered in a monotone.

“No you didn’t.” Husk scoffed.

“Why do you say that?”

“'Cause it doesn’t smell like piss in here.”

“I cleaned it up.”

“You cleaned it up? When did you have time?”

“I had plenty of time. I saw someone get struck by a car. I laughed so hard I urinated. Then I took it upon myself to clean up before I got downstairs.”

“Did you see Angel tonight? Did you… Y’know?”

“I truly have no idea what you’re talking about my friend. I didn’t see Angel at all tonight.” Alastor was thankful when Husk didn’t have an answer for his claim.

“You’re lying.”

“Noooo.”Alastor dragged out the word melodically.

“You’re doing a really good job of it but I know you’re lying.” Husk rolled up his window then crossed his arms over his chest. He was shaking his head in contempt.

Alastor’s mind began to wander into his darkest places. The impropriety of what he’d done. His brain picking at how he didn’t resist temptation. It was so simple in prior instances. He could let another’s desire roll off of him. Yet tonight he found himself underneath the young man. Concealed by the tenebrosity of the summer night. No eyes piercing him with their judgmental stares. Still humiliation lingered from sexual release. The most desperate aspect had been that he had no one to discuss it with. It would only fester inside him. Left until his dying breath. An emptiness began to grow in the pit of his stomach. It was as if he hadn’t killed at all tonight. He was hollow.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet.” Husk muttered. “Do you not like talking about sex related shit?” He asked. Alastor kept his eyes strictly on the road. “Shit that’s okay. I won’t pick on ya anymore.”

“Don’t do that.” Alastor said under his breath. “I’m not abnormal. I do like talking about sex. What kind of man do you think I am?” His voice incensed. Alastor couldn’t stand the idea of him being imperfect. Even in this instance. He could puppeteer a virile male persona. He allowed the strings to go limp in his hands for only a moment. Husk had only reminded him of why he needed to be steadfast in his act.

“Uh… Okay?” Husk replied. The rest of the car ride was silent. His tires created a melody of pulverized gravel as he pulled into an empty space. He shut off the vehicle.

“See you in the morning?” Alastor perked up. Husk’s mouth hung agape while he stared at Alastor. He merely shook his head after a few seconds. His hairy hands reaching into his suit jacket pocket for his flask. He took a long gulp.

“Yeah. In the morning. Sleep tight Al.” He replied. Husk left the car and drunkenly wobbled inside the motel.

“Thanks!” He waved his hand. A grin firmly planted on his lips. Alastor unfastened his seat belt. He gave himself permission to sit and revel in his solitude. Alastor began to grind his teeth while looking at his reflection. He felt that twinge in his temple. An all-encompassing agony that his brain punished him with for falling out of its appointed parameters. His superego admonished him harshly. He got out of his coupe and went to his room speedily. Turning on all the lights and even the idiot box to drown out the sound of this thoughts. He passed the mirror on the way to the bathroom and glanced at his slacks. The dishonorable stain withstanding like a scarlet letter. Alastor’s smile faltered. Only for a tenth of a second.

* * *

**ANGEL JULY 31 ST 1998 **

**1:00 AM**

Valentino’s fingers dug deep into Angel’s arm. That’ll surely leave a mark. He was tossed into the dark interior of the limo. Angel found his footing and hoisted himself into the seat. Val came into the vehicle after him. Intimidatingly taking his seat next to Angel. His hands found his throat and dragged him close. Val’s hard body collided against Angel uncomfortably.

“What else have you and Glasses been doing?”

“That’s a shitty dig on him but go on.” Angel had been choking. His comeback was strained greatly. Valentino eased up on his grip.

“Don’t piss me off more. I might kill you on accident.” Val took off his hat and tossed it aside. His sunglasses still propped on his face. Angel rubbed his throat with a pout. Thinking of Alastor in the window of silence between them. No use lying, he was caught.

“He knows how to make me come. Hard. The other time he didn’t even have to touch me.” He said. Bravery coating his statement. Valentino inhaled deeply from his wide nose. He took off his fur coat calmly then sat it beside him.

“How many more guys you fucking around with Angel cakes?” Val’s words simmered with rage.

“As many as you’re fucking around with.” Angel answered. Val couldn’t negate the accusation.

“You know at the end of the day I come back to you baby. You’re supposed to be my bottom bitch. You out here making me look stupid with your bullshit!” Val began to shout. Angel cringed.

“Ya don’t treat me like your bottom bitch at all. Alls you do is fuck me up!” Val grabbed Angel by his neck once more. Further proving his point. His hand loosely remained there.

“I told you! That’s just shit I do when I’m high! I don’t really mean it!”

“Tell that to my scratches and bruises, asshole. Everybody likes it a little rough but you take it too far!” Angel said. Val turned him so they could speak face to face. “God I can’t remember the last time I came when fucking you!”

“You trying to tell me that if I ripped that dress off your fine ass body, hit it from the back like I used to when we first met, you wouldn’t come hard and moan for more?” Valentino whispered to Angel with a perverted grin sliding onto his lips. Angel blinked slowly at the display. Instead of speaking he lifted his shoulders weakly. Val angrily pushed Angel away from him. “Fine bitch. See? You don’t like it when I’m nice to you.” He said. His hand reached into his pocket. Angel’s eyebrows knitted while he watched. Valentino had a baggie of dust. It was irresponsibly packed. Looking as if it would burst. “Y’know I got this for you. Was hoping you’d finish with a john early and we’d go to an exec suite. Spend the night together. And of course you fucking ruined it.” Val rambled. Angel stared at him. It looked a little like he was being earnest. Angel could pretend things were the same for the rest of the night, just for the PCP. Or whenever Val was around. It didn’t seem unreasonable.

“Really?” Angel asked. Val nodded his head.

“You still up for it?”

Angel thought about it quietly. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. He smiled a little bit then nodded his head. Val smirked and pulled Angel into his lap. His shaky fingers opened the bag of embalming fluid. He put a bit on his finger for Angel to sniff and he obliged. He could do this for a night. If it meant his own bag of PCP? Fine. What was the worst that could happen?

**+++**

Val couldn’t contain himself once the elevator let them off on their floor. Angel was still antsy considering his family was lurking somewhere in the hotel. He tried to put it out of his mind. Apparently there was loads of drugs and even though he and Cherri binged on coke earlier in the night he was still looking for more. And if it killed him? He didn’t really care. Val lifted him off his feet and carried him over the threshold, kicking the suite door open. Angel snickered at him. Valentino put Angel on the king sized bed and began to kiss him. His hands preoccupied with undressing himself. They didn’t even turn on the lights of the room yet. Angel leaned away from the kiss to dramatically turn on the bedside table lamp. He wanted to see the inventory of nose candy. Val took the liberty of undressing Angel. He had finally be unclothed and more likely than not he wanted to release that tension he had since he sat beside him in the limo. His large arms turned Angel over and unzipped his gown then pulled it over his head before tossing it across the room. He pulled the drawer of the end table open and took out the mundane hotel bible. He began to pour the rest of the cottony powder on its surface. Angel shimmied out of his underwear while he watched Val. Val’s skin like midnight sky shined in the dim light of the lamp. His head lowering to snort some of the dust for himself then slid the bible to Angel.

“Ooo thank you.” He cooed. Angel pressed his nose to the auburn leather cover a few times. He could always sniff more later. Val put the drugs aside and pulled the bedding aside so both of them get underneath. Angel expected to have to bend over in the usual doggy style position but Val surprised him, keeping him on his back. His head disappeared under the covers. Angel felt his hands guiding his legs to rest on his shoulders. Angel was on the up and up. His surroundings becoming muted by the command of the impending high. Val brought Angel’s soft dick into his mouth and he was helpless to his body’s response. It began to harden. Not as much as when he kissed Alastor but eh, it could probably get there. Maybe. Angel shut his eyes tight and moaned in response. Val was doing actual foreplay tonight? Alastor really must’ve really threatened him. Valentino’s hand rested on Angel’s hip to steady his wiggling. He took Angel out of his mouth so he could give his balls some attention. Okay, he knew what he liked. Didn’t make up for the donkey punch. His tongue hungrily slurped them. Angel was definitely being put in the mood. He did what he always did when he was in the introductory stages of his high. He stared at the ceiling and let his mind wander. Val’s tongue prodded at Angel’s entrance then ever so gently devoured him. Angel almost fell asleep from the relaxing nature of it. Never had Valentino been so soft with him. He sprang from under the covers. He put a bump of powder on Angel’s abs and snorted it off his warm tummy. The fluid swoop somehow tingled. Val spat into his palm and rubbed his own hard cock over Angel. He was stagnant. His mind racing during what probably was only a minute. Angel couldn’t daydream when Val put it inside of him. Angel gambled rocking his hips against the premier thrusts. Valentino placed both of his hands on the headboard and began to ram haphazardly into Angel. His cock head walloping against his prostate. He could explode from the sexual agony. Okay, this was fine. Angel returned to closing his eyes while they fucked. And for a good twelve minutes or so it was good. Really good. His balls ached for an orgasm. He probably would’ve finished if not for Val’s beeper going off. He turned on the lamp to look at the message. Angel wrapped himself around Val. Nipping and kissing his even skin as he picked up the phone.

“What?” Val asked in a low voice. “Nah everybody is still at MGM. Far as I know at least.” He continued to speak to the person on the other line. “I’m in the suite.” Angel furrowed his eyebrows while listening the other man. “Nobody really.” He shrugged. “Chilling with Angel. Nothing big.” Angel ripped himself away from Val with an incredulous glare. “We’re just hanging out in here you wanna join us?” He turned to glance at Angel. Angel brought blanket over his chest. His lips pursed. “You mind if Vox comes up?”

“Yes. We are literally fucking.” He angrily answered in a whisper. Val shrugged his shoulders at him.

“Yeah but it could be better, you want to I don’t know-”

“Ya don’t know what?” Angel found himself shouting.

“Watch your fucking mouth bitch.” Val threatened. “Come up Vox.” He spoke into the receiver then hung up. “We’re just gonna have some fun. Stop over thinking it.” Angel sunk into the mattress with his arms crossed over his chest. He heard the click of a key and soon after Vox had joined them. Val shut off the light. Angel’s euphoria had dissipated as the two menaced in the shadows at the foot of the bed. He reverted to his childhood. If he shut his eyes tight and hid under the covers? The monsters would vanish. It never worked when he was a kid. He thought himself a fool for thinking it would work now.

**+++**

Angel had been thrown into the cab Val ordered for him in the morning. Not even the decency of a clothes he could wear in place of the party attire. No one else was done with their tricks. When he got back to the room it was a ghost town. Angel decided it’d be best to shower now before the others got back. He stripped himself in the tiny motel bathroom. Stepping out of his dress then into the shower. Angel was familiar with the knobs and the inconsistencies of the water temperature. He sat on the floor of the tub. Knees pressed to his chest. As the water rained on his body he stared into the drain. Wishing he could turn to liquid and swirl into the pipes where no one could find him. He chalked it up to post drug-use depression. Other factors were surely at play. His mind replayed sporadic sections of the prior night. Everything after him and Val got to the executive suite. It was like terrifying flashes intruding on his dismal musings.

_‘Don’t worry Angel cakes. You know I’m the only one who can take care of you.’_

He put his hands on the sides of his white haired head. He tried to shake Val’s voice away. Still like film on a reel. Painful segments played on with an unkindness. Vox and Val hovering. Their cocks forcing their way into Angel’s mouth simultaneously. With another flash he was in the present. Tears bit at the corners of his eyes. He exhaled out his lips and quietly began to sob. He didn’t want to remember. He had already possessed varied feelings. Second guessing himself on account of being incredibly wasted. Angel’s hot tears mixed with the large droplets that poured from the shower head. He began to coo with unsurmountable sadness. He wished he wasn’t there. He wished he was home with his sister and mom. Or maybe even with Alastor? It meant so much when he called him a good boy. It was downright embarrassing. Something about being told he was good was so sustaining. He kept bringing himself to the moments he was in the car with Alastor. How he felt him harden against him and his cock felt big, thick and all around magnificent. How Alastor was embarrassed of his own body’s reaction. He couldn’t bear to force him into anything. He knew he was gross. He wouldn't want to go all the way with himself if given the chance. To a normal individual the thought of fucking him was probably a nightmare. Angel finished his shame shower and put on his casual wear. Disappointed to find that no one had gotten back yet. Another flash came. Vox and Valentino forcing their dicks into both his abused holes like some kind of demented see saw. It made his heart painfully jolt in his chest as if he were there once more. When he was struck back to the present he had been sitting on the edge of one of the beds. He forced himself to breathe in deeply just to simulate relaxation.

Thankfully the door opened. It was a welcomed distraction. Cherri limped towards the bed. Her strands of orangey red hair jut in every direction. She looked like a landfill Barbie doll. Her dress hung limp off her body at her waist. Her voluptuous breasts exposed aside from the star pasties that covered her nipples. A comically large syringe stuck in the space between her bosoms. Angel narrowed his eyes at the sight of her. She laid down on her back beside him and exhaled. Perspiration visible on her alabaster epidermis. Dried blood caked on her right nostril.

“Ya look like you had a worse night than me.”

“I think I died.” Cherri answered. Her voice uncharacteristically hoarse and deep.

“Jesus Cherri, how?”

“I don’t know… I scored big. Got two high rollers who wanted me at the same time. I was too wasted to know where I was but we partied. They kept giving me more shit to snort all of the sudden it went black.” She spoke painfully. “Everything was black. There was nothing.” Cherri’s voice weakened as it lowered to a whisper.

“What’s that thing?” Angel pointed his index finger at the syringe.

“Ugh. I don’t even know. I guess the bastards were playing Pulp Fiction with me.” She groaned. Her hand lazily pulled it out and tossed it across the room. “I'm fine. What happened to you Angie?” She asked. "You okay?"

Angel felt his lower lip quiver at the inquiry. He put his hands over his eyes and flinched. He felt Cherri shift slowly on the bed.

“I don’t know.” He began to shiver. “I don’t remember.” Angel could only whimper. Cherri’s arm wrapped around his shoulders. “I guess I told him it was okay. I don’t remember.” He attempted to self soothe, rocking back and forth slightly.

“Angie, what are you talking about? You talking about your boy toy?” She spoke more tenderly to him. He only shook his head. Alastor would never. He would hope he wouldn’t but he wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

“Val and Vox. First it was just Val y’know? I’m used to him but last night I don’t know what happened. It happened so fast!” Angel had begun to stutter. Cherri shushed him.

“Okay! I don’t need the gory deets okay? I’m just here. We have each other. Okay.” She got on her knees on the mattress and held Angel. Her body leaning against his and transferring warmth between them. “I’m here.” She repeated. Angel did his best not to cry but the tears came in great measure. He was just thankful that Cherri was the only one to witness it.

* * *

**ALASTOR, AUGUST 1 ST 1998**

**10:17 AM**

Alastor continuously washed his gloved hands under the motel faucet. Waiting for the soap to froth on the surface of them before rinsing them clean again. He couldn’t help it. In the room the television blared.

_You are not permitted to lose control. You are not to by any means lose control again._

His superego admonished him on a loop since the other night. Sleep was barely sleep. Though that had been common for him. He tried to silence the voice. With drinks, with reading. He even thought attempting self-pleasures would fix what had been done. The shame was too intense. When he was finished drying his hands for the sixth time he went towards the door. He needed to monitor any news for obvious reasons. Alastor opened the door. He leaned forward and plucked The Las Vegas Sun newspaper from the floor beside the entrance. He turned his head to the right. Angel had been crouched down on the concrete. A cigarette between his index and middle finger. Untapped ash talking up major real estate on the cylindered tobacco. 

“Hi.” Alastor greeted.

“Hey.” Angel looked up at him.

“Did you want to come inside or something?” His eyebrows furrowed amidst his grin. Angel rose to his usual stature. Hovering as he slipped past Alastor and inside. He noticed he didn’t put out the damn cigarette. Alastor rolled his eyes and closed the door behind him. Angel scoffed and went to toss the cigarette into the bathroom. He returned, smokeless, looking a bit dreary.

“What ya watching?” Angel asked.

“The news.”

“Borinnnggggg.” He dragged out. Alastor promptly shut the television off with a hurried push of a button. He plopped down into the arm chair that was beside his table and opened the newspaper. “Did you miss me?” Angel asked coquettishly.

“No.” Alastor answered flatly. He didn’t lower the newspaper from covering his face. All Angel did was hum. He felt his thigh weigh suddenly. Alastor lifted the paper over his head. Angel sat on the floor under him with an innocent expression. His head resting against his leg. “What are you doing now?” Alastor was becoming slightly irate.

“Nothing. I just ain’t too proud to say I missed ya.”

“You saw me the other night.”

“I just wanna be around you.” Angel replied timidly. He pouted his full lips then shifted his cranium against Alastor’s thigh. His heart palpitated from the motion.

“Why?” Alastor found himself asking angrily. Angel looked disappointed by the question.

“Cause, I like ya. Stupid.”

“Why?”

“What do ya mean why?! Cause… Just cause. I’m broken I guess.” Angel shrugged his shoulders. “And you’re broken too?”

“I am not.” Alastor dismissively returned to reading the newspaper. He allowed the younger man to continue nuzzling his thigh. Only because he knew that not to be true. It was harmless enough. Angel couldn’t stand for there to be silence.

“I liked it when you called me good boy.” Angel admitted with a shy hesitance.

“Hm.” Alastor stifled his desired statement. That would mean talking about the incident in the car.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked. “You worried about how you killed Katie?”

“No.”

“Why not? Where did you even put her body?”

“I’m not inept. She was heavy but I manage to stuff her into a trash compactor chute. They probably won’t find her anytime soon.” Alastor explained. His voice meandered flatly.

“Why do you kill people?” Angel inquired. Something about him today seemed too childlike.

“Why do you do drugs?” Alastor retorted. Angel paused. He got up from the floor and went to sit on his bed. He knew because he had been subtlety watching him from behind the newspaper. “Take off your shoes if you’re getting on the bed.” He commanded.

“I feel like you’re being an asshole to me today.” Angel stated. He took off his keds and brought his entire form to the bed. His back to the headboard. Angel turned the television back on and flipped through the channels quietly. Alastor sighed. He shut the newspaper and folded it methodically before putting it on his table.

“I know.” He admitted. He could do that much. Not exactly apologize. Never really apologize. Alastor made his way to the bed as well. Alastor went to slip off his loafers before sitting beside Angel. He wanted to ask about Valentino but he didn’t want to seem invested. Angel finally settled on a channel and put the remote down into his lap. Alastor gave a genuine smirk. Angel glanced over to him awkwardly. His face was turning pink. He danced his index and middle finger along the comforter of the bed until it was at Angel’s hip. He nudged the other male with his knuckles playfully. “You may… Hold my hand. If you desire.” Alastor phrased carefully. His held his hand out to Angel, palm up. He attempted a cavalier air. Angel smiled and took Alastor’s gloved hand. He turned his attention to the television once more. For the duration of the insipid show they remained that way. Fingers loosely wrapped then intertwined with each other. It was strange but it wasn’t provocative. That was more essential than the idea of normalcy. “I don’t understand. What is the point of this program?” Alastor waved his free hand at the set.

“It’s just seven strangers and they live together and then drama happens. It ain’t too complicated for a big brain like yours.” Angel explained.

“I… I still don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re too old to get it.”

“I disagree. I am on the good side of thirty. I choose not to get it. The question itself was merely a lark.” Alastor digressed. Angel had been staring at Alastor as if he were speaking a different language entirely. He sighed dramatically then beckoned Angel closer with his free index finger. Angel leaned closer warily. “When’s your birthday? I’ll buy you a thesaurus.” Alastor whispered into Angel’s ear.

His face had been so close to his. It was dangerous and irresponsible. Alastor’s lips kissed the corner of Angel’s mouth before he could reply. Angel’s flushed that brilliant red. His heterochromatic eyes slipped closed and he leaned forward for more. Alastor was satisfied in obliging, so long as he didn’t let it get carried away. Angel slid down so he could lay on his back on the bed. His somehow ladylike hands gripped Alastor’s suspenders and pulled him on top of him. Alastor didn’t quite relax in the immediate moment. He took off his glasses and placed them on the end table along with the remote. Alastor pressed his forehead to Angel’s as he resumed the embrace. His lips smacking against the other male’s. Eager, ravenously. Pushing his hot breath out of his mouth and into Angel as if he were blowing up a balloon. The younger male wiggled too much. Alastor tried to ignore it. He desperately sought to steady him. Alastor was getting the hang of the tongue kissing though. Seductive insistent pushing of his oral organ paired with volatile paths. Anecdotes being transcribed with the tip of his tongue and given away to his younger counterpart. Angel swathed his long legs around Alastor’s waist. Drawing his lower body in closer. The room became tepid afterwards. Or perhaps Alastor was the only one whose body found heat? Angel’s arousal noticeably increased. His hands trying to find their place on his body. They’d yet to succeed. His moans made the flesh of Alastor’s mouth vibrate. Something was very sensual about it.

“Alastor?” Angel released a gasping murmur. Alastor didn’t stop the kisses immediately.

“What?” He replied unhurriedly. Angel’s cheeks warmed with each tilt of his head. In tandem with Alastor’s. He wondered how obvious his inexperience had been. Angel’s fingers unsnapped the straps of his overalls. He tried to shimmy out of them to no avail. Alastor’s brows knitted but he kept pecking Angel’s soft lips.

“Fuck me?” He asked him. It felt like an earnest request, a vulnerable one as well. “Fuck me please-“

“What? No!” Alastor instantaneously ascended his mouth from Angel’s.

“Come on Al, please? I need it. I’m going through a lot. I need you. Come on we’re both here. We’re both hard let’s just do it what are we waiting for?” Angel started to plead. Alastor had never seen Angel so desperate. Like he was crying for a fix. The other man was on the verge of tears as he begged. “Al, come on!” He repeated. Alastor scoffed in revulsion. The boy had always found a way to ruin something good. He forced Angel’s legs off him and rose from the bed with indignation.

“I am not… Hard.” Alastor cringed from speaking the word alone. Angel hopped off the bed after him.

“Yes you are!” He argued. Doing the worst possible thing he could. He inappropriately reached for the crotch of Alastor’s slacks. He snatched him up involuntarily. He could tell he physically hurt Angel in his wrath. His hands squeezing the younger man’s wrist hard. He heard him whine under his breath.

“What did I tell you about touching me without permission?” Alastor asked in a truncated volume and discordant tone. Angel’s eyes went to the floor like an admonished child. His wrist went limp and Alastor freed him.

“Okay…” He spoke quietly. “I’ve fallen for enough guys in the closet to know what’s going on here.” Angel calmly lifted both of his hands in submission. “You don’t have to beat me over the head with it.”

“I am not in the closet.” Alastor said angrily. His eyes widened with his smile, sounding terrifying from an outside point of view.

“Well you’re somewhere and it ain’t where I’m at.” Angel started to buckle his overalls and headed to the door.

“I disagree.”  
  


“Yeah, good luck with that. Peace out.” Angel yelled. He slammed the door behind him. Alastor crossed his arms over his chest and let out a heavy exhale. How could he allow himself to let things become so convoluted? He sat down on the bed, his left leg vibrating with unease. Alastor sputtered his lips and rose from the mattress. He grabbed his keys and went out to his coupe.


	10. Are You that Somebody?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel's brother Aaron has successfully strong armed information from Vegas Castle Motel. Alastor and Angel try to sort out their differences. Alastor struggles with the idea of being intimate with someone while Angel wonders if he has enough strength to abandon his current lifestyle. Alastor reluctantly agrees to sleep with Angel but it wasn't what he was expecting at all. 
> 
> TW: T-slur.  
> This is where the 'Consensual but not Safe or Sane' tag comes in.  
> Enjoy!

**ALASTOR AUGUST 1 ST 1998**

**11:45 AM**

Alastor slowly rolled along Dean Martin drive. He spotted Angel in the horizon. Hunched over, clutching a cigarette and white haired head drooped low. Puffs of smoke leading him to his trail like fairytale breadcrumbs. He beeped his horn once. Angel looked back at the car then visibly sucked his teeth. Alastor sped up so he could gradually drive beside him. Once they were parallel from each other his foot eased on the gas.

“Get in.” Alastor shouted after rolling down his window. He would switch between glancing at the road and the younger male.

“Fuck you.” Angel called out. Alastor kept one hand on the steering wheel. He leaned so he could hold his gaze on Angel.

“Seriously, get in the car.”

“Seriously, fuck off.” He snapped. Alastor sighed and rolled his eyes. Not feeling comfortable on the road with his glasses off. He left the room in such a hurry it couldn’t be helped.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” Alastor continued to speak loudly, there wasn’t much traffic so he wasn’t sure why.

“Too late ya fucking dipshit.”

“I deserved that.” He muttered. “Get in the car. We’ll talk about it?” Alastor offered.

“I don’t wanna talk about shit with you.”

“I know! Angel!” Alastor honked his horn again. He hit his brakes just as Angel stopped walking. “Listen… I’ll do it.” He said quietly.

“What? Really?” Angel leaned over and stared at him.

“Yes. I just-” Alastor began to stammer. “Just get inside please. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. We’ll talk. How’s that sound?”

“I want drugs.”

“Okay maybe not anywhere you want but almost anywhere.” He amended the offer.

“Can I smoke inside the car?”

“Sure whatever just get in the car?” Alastor placed both hands on the steering wheel. Angel opened the car door and dropped into the seat. He kept his right hand out the open window. The cigarette glued to his fingers. “Alright but you still need to wear a safety belt.” He scolded. Angel’s eyes rolled as he lazily pulled the seatbelt over his chest into the locking mechanism. His chipped nails scratched his collar bone. Alastor watched him a moment then took the car out of park and drove forward. “Where are we going?”

“I guess you can take me back.” Angel answered. “Even though the last place I wanna be is at Vegas Castle.” His head looked out the window. Alastor couldn’t allow himself to be distracted in this setting. Lest he’d get into an accident.

“Why is that?” He found his lips parting to inquire.

“Can we not talk about it right now?”

“Fine.”

Alastor shrugged. He made a broken U-turn and made his way back to the motel. He whistled while Angel flicked his cigarette away. It was replaced instantly.

“Hey, you said you’re from the south right?” His muffled voice inquired.

“Yes. I am.” He replied tentatively.

“Why don’t ya talk like you’re from the south?”

“And what exactly is that supposed to sound like?”

“Don’t be an asshole you know what it’s supposed to sound like and ya sound nothing like it.”

“Mayhap that is how I prefer it?” Alastor looked into the rearview mirror to look at Angel who had been fumbling with his lighter. “You don’t sound like you’re from Nevada but I choose not to comment on such things. It’s an inelegant assumption.”

“Yeah well, that’s ‘cause I’m not so I wouldn’t be offended about it, princess.” Angel stuck his tongue out mockingly. Alastor shut his smile and pretended not to see it. “My sister was right about ya.” Angel sighed.

“How does your sister know me?”

“I told her about you.”

“What was she right about?”

“That going anywhere with you wasn’t a good idea. That you’re probably a murderer.”

“Hm.” Alastor furrowed his brows. “A fitting conjecture.”

It was a hop and a skip to get back to Vegas Castle. His parking spot was still free when they arrived. Angel couldn’t wait to get out of the car. For most of the ride they didn’t speak, despite Alastor saying they would. He closed the door softly and leaned on it. Angel walked around and stood in front of him. His head was still hung low.

“I trained myself to not have the accent…” Alastor said. Angel picked up his drooping cranium with a curious stare.

“What?”

“That’s why I do not sound like a typical ‘southerner’” Alastor lifted his hands to mime air quotes.

“Why would you do that? Ain’t ya proud of where you’re from?”

“Of course I am but… It’s a long tiring story that I don’t care to tell at the moment.” Alastor exhaled from his nostrils when he paused. His mask slipping and he wondered why he even allowed it to. Alastor figuratively tightened it around his visage and walked toward his room.  
  


“Al wait!” Angel jogged after him. “I don’t mind hanging out with you a little longer, before Cherri swings by and I have to start working anyway.” He shrugged. Alastor nodded his head and beckoned him. Less tension following them as they went back into the room. He hadn’t done his ritual but he could save it for when Angel left. Monitor the news for any of his victims until the night fell. Angel immediately went to the bed and sat criss-cross-applesauce. It was sort of adorable to behold but he couldn’t admit such or vocalize it. “So… We’re gonna do it.”

“Eventually.” Alastor said in a monotone. “Not today.”

“Of course not today. Too much shit has happened.” Angel started to chuckle. Alastor took a seat beside him on the bed.

“Understandable.” He spoke warily. Alastor felt angry with himself. The truth was he wasn’t exactly prepared for any of this. His favorite part of being around Angel were moments like now. When he was just sitting with him and talking. Or even when he held his hand or kissed him. In the past it meant nothing if somebody was obtuse about him not wanting to sleep with them. Now it felt as if whatever ribbon that bound Angel with him had slipped when he rejected the idea of sex. He couldn’t place a name on the feeling but it made him fretful. He felt knots in his heart and stomach.

“Shiiit. Ya good?” Angel broke the silence.

“Oh yeah… I’m fine. Just thinking.” Alastor forced a laugh.

“About me?” He wiggled his eyebrows and leaned in closer to Alastor.

“Kind of.” He responded with ire raising in his tone. His eyebrows rose up his forehead. Alastor grabbed his glasses and put them on his face.

“We have time to kill, what are we gonna do?”

“What’s something you love?”

“No fair, you can’t answer a question with a question!” Angel scoffed and crossed his arms. “I dunno. I so like music but who doesn’t?”

“Exactly, try again.”

“Mandalay was ‘sposed to open this summer. There’s gonna be this really great aquarium which I’m stoked for because I love aquariums. Like when I was a kid and my parents were still together me, my brother and sister would go with them to Coney Island. They’d always let me go to the aquarium. It was my favorite place for the longest. It was fuckin’ sweet…” Angel started to chatter on. “Y’know? When I was a kid and I didn’t know I was a fuckin’ idiot yet I definitely thought I could be like this ocean explorer type person.” He continued. “Did you know there’s like hella parts of the ocean that hasn’t been explored? How in the fuck did that happen? Like how long we been on this planet?” Alastor stared intently as he spoke. Angel’s face had brightened to a healthy peach hue while he talked about his childhood. The corners of Alastor’s mouth twitched genuinely. The earnest desire to listen to Angel for as long as he wanted to speak. It was like a good meal. Crafted by the hands of a mother, homemade, compelled you to feel loved. Warming on a soul soothing scale. “Stop looking at me like that.” Angel said while looking away.

“Like what?”

“I dunno…”

“Perhaps you’re not used to someone listening to you?”

“I am!” Angel crossed his arms angrily. “You’re the one being weird.”

“Mhm.” He hummed condescendingly a raise of his eyebrows. “So you’re from New York?”

“Yeah.” He answered. 

“Do you miss it?”

“I miss seasons. But here I get to be as slutty clothes wise so I guess its fine.” Angel’s shoulders rose into a shrug.

“I like the way you’re dressed now.” Alastor complimented. “You look like a cute kid.”

“I’m not a kid.” Angel’s lids lowered in annoyance. “Dress for the job you have. Not the job they gave you.”

“That’s not how that saying goes.” Alastor snorted before laughing. He put his hand on Angel’s arm. Noticing the twisted rushed way his overall strap had been. His fingers unbuckled it then straightened it to perfection on his shoulder. He reclosed it carefully. “Well I’d be remiss if I didn’t say that I enjoy your work attire as well. Anything you wear. You’re quite hip.”

“Mhm. Now you’re being all nice to me and shit.” Angel grumbled. Alastor lowered his gaze with embarrassment. “What? What’s wrong?”

“You’re beginning to know me too well.” He forced out his throat.

“Is that bad?”

“Yes, No. I’m not sure.” Alastor stuttered clumsily. He wanted so much to tell him that he never felt as challenged as he did with him. Challenge was good but challenge also meant familiarity. 

“Do you want me to go away?” He asked in a small voice. Alastor inhaled deeply from his nostrils.

“No.” He answered just as softly. “When Mandalay opens I would like to take you there. How does that sound?” Alastor quickly changed the subject.

“I’d love that but that means you’d be staying here… with me.”

“Perhaps.” Alastor said under his breath. What was he saying? What was he doing? Nothing was in stone but why would he stay here? Just because Angel was in Vegas? He had time to decide and every time he’d plan something it would go awry. He needed to keep his eye on the ball. How could he allow himself to be so distracted?

“We’ll see. Okay?” Angel told him warmly. The pressure eased off his chest. Angel’s hand hovered over the side of Alastor’s cheek. Miming a comforting touch of his face without actually touching him. Alastor never felt more seen. 

* * *

**ANGEL AUGUST 1 ST 1998**

**12: 17 PM**

He stood in the open doorway of Alastor’s room. Facing the shorter man. He smoked and waited for Cherri. His stomach full of butterflies for the duration of the visit. In some ways Angel felt it was a drug in itself. Or Alastor was? It was complex so he didn't have words for it.

“You are coming back later, aren’t you?” Alastor asked. His hand scratching behind his neck in a seemingly anxious fashion. He smirked down at him. We’re they dating now or something? No, dating was something Angel did in high school. Adulthood wasn't about dating for him. It was about his next fix, his next trick. Now he fucks people for a living. His boyfriend was his pimp. Which was probably pitiful. He drew in smoke from his cigarette then blew it from the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, of course.” Angel answered. “We can watch more Real World.” He giggled.

“Honestly we should just go out and eat.” Alastor’s tone changed as his eyes rolled. Annoying him was so much fun.

“Fiiiine.” He said dramatically. Cherri’s van pulled up immediately. Alastor’s hand forced Angel’s head to lower. His lips pecked his bangs then he was released. Angel started to give him a cheeky grin. His teeth sinking into his bottom lip in flirtation. "Fuck around and keep being nice to me. You're gonna get your dick sucked." He wiggled his eyebrows. Alastor looked taken aback, embarrassed and intrigued in a span of a few seconds. He also vehemently tried to mask it.

“Okay, run along.” Alastor fanned Angel away.

“Alright, daddy.” He blew a kiss at him then started to jog away.

“Do not call me that!” He heard Alastor yell. The door slammed closed. Angel smiled and went straight to the back of Cherri’s van.

“Hi bitch. How’s it hanging?”

“Oooo. You and Smiley were humping all morning? Hope he cheered you up. Sure looks like he did.” Angel climbed inside and rummaged around the cardboard box of clothes. He immediately unhooked the straps of his overalls.

“Eh. It wasn’t all gravy.” He replied. “He got me in the last quarter though.” Angel sighed dreamily. Cherri jumped from the front seat to the back with a loud thud. Once she crawled beside Angel she began to put her fingers through his hair.

“I love you more. Always remember that.” Cherri said. She felt around the rug flooring of the van until she had a can of hair spray in her grasp. Creating makeshift coils of his pixie cut hairstyle.

“Oh I could never forget that.” He grinned. “You know if I were straight we’d probably be on our fifth back alley abortion.” Angel snickered. He cooed from the sight of newer clothes. “Biiiitch.” Angel whispered. Picking up white shorts and a sleeveless off white turtle neck crop top.

“Oh yeah, that was not easy to get at Good Will this morning but I did it because I’m amazing.” Cherri continued to tend to his hair.

“Ya sure are.” He held the clothes to his chest. “You’ve got a good eye for fashion.” Angel started to get undressed. “I think Al will like it too.”

“Ooooo.” Cherri teasingly sang then stuck her tongue out at him.

“As if.” Angel rolled his eyes. “Don’t make it weird. How do I look?” He placed his hands on his hips and turned his body slighty.

“Adorable.” Cherri handed him his fuzzy pink jacket then plundered into the cardboard box for her own outfit.

“Dope." He paused. "Hey, you ever think about I don’t know… Settling down with somebody and not doing this shit anymore?” Angel slipped on his boots while he spoke. Cherri settled on shiny harem pants and a bikini top.

“Uh. No. That sounds boring.” She narrowed her eye at him. Dressing herself slowly with a skeptical look on her face. “Angel, you’re not thinking of going clean are you?”

“I don’t know.” He drew into himself a bit and he felt around for the makeup palette. He found the corners of his lips curling into a frown.

“This guy is hella fucking with your head Angie.” Cherri stated. “Don’t worry. I got the solution…” She pulled the remainder of the cocaine from Saturday from under the passenger seat with a smirk. “Have you had any nose candy today?” Angel shook his head. Maybe he was delusional from the lack of drugs in his system. She dipped her pinky in the plastic and snorted the bump that she had created. Angel did the same after frowning.

“Do you talk to your family at all?” He muttered, his pinky going in for more involuntarily.

“Ew.” She scoffed. “No, fuck no. Do you?”

“I mean… I called my sister last week but all she did was tell me to come home.”

“See? What’s the fucking use Ange? We’re the only family we need and we don’t have to deal with those assholes. We’re young okay? You think I’m gonna let my hatin’ ass family fuck up my freedom? Please.” She rolled her eye and wiped her nostril. Angel furrowed his eyebrows with thought as his heart rate began to raise. Wondering if he was overthinking whatever interaction he had with Alastor. Things were changing and maybe he didn’t want to stop using? He certainly was becoming less and less of a fan of walking hoe’s stroll. He felt a migraine coming on. He needed money for drugs, the only way he knew how to get money was tricking. He was confined to the lifestyle.

**+++**

Cherri and Angel leaned on the side of her van. Sunglasses being their only protection from the sun. Angel tanned just fine but Cherri had awful luck. She primarily became all red and burnt on days the sun beat down on them.

“Ya sure you don’t wanna just head to the strip?” He asked. They passed a bottle of vodka between each other while smoking cigarettes. No guys had bit but there was still time. Angel wasn’t extremely worried about the clientele. He blew a puff of smoke past his lips. Perspiration created a hellish concoction of sweat and mascara that seared the corners of his eyes. He didn’t attempt to wipe it away. It would ruin his glittery pink eyeshadow.

“Nah b.” Cherri took the bottle from him and took an effortless swig. “Give it a couple days. I don’t want to run into the assholes who hit it, let me die, then fucking dipped.” She waved her hand at Angel. Her pale purple nailed fingers passed the bottle back to him.

“Fine.” He brought the spout of the generic vodka bottle to his lips. Eyes focused on the road as cars passed. He received a few honks but no one slowed. Angel was feeling frisky. Cocaine making him more alert than caffeine and the liquor making him filled with lust. Finally a dark green Camry slowly promenaded. The window gradually lowered. Angel wiggled his eyebrows. “Which of us he wants?”

“Hopefully you. I fuckin' hate men right now.” She garbled. Angel circled the tip of the spout of the bottle with the tip of his tongue as an invitation. The shadowy figure put his car in park. His first taste for the day and boy was he starving. Angel practically threw the bottle at Cherri. He marched the distance between Cherri’s van and the Camry with a model strut. A walk that rivaled Tyra Banks or Kate Moss.

“Hey-” He greeted. Something odd had occurred. The window rolled up again then the green Camry rejoined traffic. Angel put his hands on his hips with frustration. “What the fuck?” He whispered. He dejectedly walked back to the van.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. Do I not look cute today?”

“You look cute everyday bitch. I promise.” Cherri hoisted her petite body to stand up straight. “Watch out for pigs I’m gonna take a piss.” She announced as she played with the waist of her harem pants. Angel scrunched up his face. His cigarette be held by his lips a moment.

“I told you to go before we left, now you’re gonna break the fuckin’ seal.” He groaned.

“Baby! I compare you to a kiss from a roseeee!” Cherri sang as she jogged away from him. Further into the empty desert behind him.

“That’s not what I mean damn it. Not that seal.” He shouted at her. Angel slumped against the burning metal of the van. It made him sweatier but he didn’t care. His heart beat loudly. Drowning out the noise of the highway. The thought of having to grovel to Valentino in the event of a dry day. What if he made him have more group sex with him and Vox? Or worse? Angel had no idea what to expect from that bastard anymore. Angel started to guzzle the alcohol instinctively. Drink the fear away. Perhaps wash the memories from him with the vodka. Still the flashes remained in the back of his mind. Something curious happened in traffic. A string of limos driving by. He choked on the harsh liquid when he made the connection. He ran behind the van and crouched down. “Oh fuck!” He sneered. His cigarette flew from his fingers and the bottle dropped into the sand.

“Cherri! Cherri!” He whisper-yelled her name repeatedly. She walked towards Angel unhurriedly. Pulling up her pants.

“What?”

“It’s my fucking dad, or my brother. One of them! Or both!” Angel covered the sides of his head.

“Wait what? Where’s the bottle of vodka?” Cherri incoherently spoke.

“I dropped it!”

“What! What the fuck? How does your brother know what you're doing?” She asked him. In the background the sound of vehicles parking rang out.

“He was at MGM on Saturday asking about Jaws.”

“Angie what the fuck! Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“A lot of shit happened! I was so high! I forgot!”

“Okay get in. I’ll handle this.” She ordered him. Angel opened the driver’s side door and slid inside. Laying uncomfortably across the two seats. Angel clasped his hands over his mouth. He breathed hard from his nose. He heard Cherri close the door and walk around the van.

“Hey.” Aaron’s faux rough voice greeted.

“Two hundred for the hour baby.” Cherri purred at him.

“You know that’s not what I’m here for bitch.” He immediately answered.

“You take tricks to Vegas Castle?”

“Yeah, or wherever… Why? You wanna give me a go shorty?” Cherri’s voice had a light air to it. Angel could hear her smirking while teasing his brother. If he wasn’t terrified he would’ve busted into uncontrolled cackling. “We can go anywhere.”

“Listen here ya loose pussy lipped slut. Do you know who I am?”

“Can’t say I do sexy.”

“I’m in the Moretti family. One of you bitches killed one of my associates. How about now? Ya know me?” Cherri didn’t speak for a few seconds. “Now, you’re gonna tell me if you seen a tall tranny with this guy.” Aaron spoke sternly. Silence came again.

“Never seen him around.”

“You seen this before?”

“Nah. What is it?”

“I don’t have to tell ya if you never seen it…”

Every time the two didn’t speak Angel’s blood pressure went through the roof. His breathing seemed so much louder when there was silence. He jumped from the sound of a hand slamming against the exterior of the van.

“I’ll be back.” Angel heard. It was the last phrase from his brother. He waited for Cherri to signal him. He uncovered his mouth. His chest raising expeditiously. An exhale came from the other side of the van along with the skidding of several tires. When all quieted Cherri opened the door.

“Aw your lip gloss is fucked up.” She said.

“Bitch.” Angel sat up. “What did he show you?”

“Some fucking leather journal thing and a polaroid of Jaws.”

“Shit.” Angel whispered.

“It’s okay. He’s not on your trail…”

“Yeah but-” Angel began to mutter. “Fuck.” He leaned his head again the dashboard and covered his face. He had to tell Alastor. He had to tell him the mob got hold of his journal.

**+++**

Angel didn’t want to be on Dean Martin drive for too long. He knew Alastor was waiting for him. He was jumpy from Aaron’s visit and mostly hiding behind the van for the duration of the day. Even when he got a trick he couldn’t focus. When Cherri stopped the van in the parking lot of Vegas Castle he toppled from inside onto the pavement. Her van stretched across two parking spaces. 

“What do I tell Val if he asks about where you are?” She called out from inside the vehicle.

“Just… Tell him I’m at home or something.” Angel’s legs wobbled as he got up from the hard ground.

“Aiight. I’m gonna head to the strip and see if I can get some cheddar there.” She announced.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He slurred.

“Dope. Stay safe Angie!” She haphazardly put the van in reverse in her inebriation. He waved at her even though she was looking everywhere but him. She nearly struck a motel patron’s pickup on her way out.

“See ya Cher…” He trailed off. He stumbled to the door of Alastor’s room and leaned his head on it as he drummed his palm on the surface. He almost fell inside when Alastor pulled it open. The other man's deep brown eyes rolled. He felt himself being steered to the chair that sat at the circular table.

“I see you’ve been drinking.” He spoke lowly. Angel forced himself to sit up among his dazed like state.

“Bad day at work.” Angel replied.

“I know I said we’d go out but I’ve changed my mind. I wasn’t sure of what you liked so I ordered a bit carelessly.” Alastor was filling the motel glass with water then sat across from him. “It’s Chinese.” He said. Angel began to pull off his jacket and let the sleeves flop on the arms of the chair.

“Oh that was nice of ya but what changed your mind-” Angel started to speak then paused at the sound of the news on the television.

-“Up next: law enforcement say they are still investigating an incident on I-15. Travelers on their way to Vegas had their car break down. In the interim of the authorities arriving the family found remains of a severed hand. County medical examiner claims it is undistinguishable due to the fingers being removed. The discarded body parts likened to multiple unsolved cases that have been occurring across the Midwest and Texas”-

The other man stopped to stare at the screen before shutting off the television. He sat across from Angel as if nothing had happened. Angel’s eyebrows furrowed at Alastor as he began to prep for the meal. He stared at him.

“I thought you said you stuffed Katie down a trash shoot?”

“I did. That wasn’t Katie.” Alastor replied simply. He picked up a plastic fork instead of the chopsticks provided.

“Oh my god!”

“Oh please.” His eyes rolled once more. “I never said I only killed her.” He said with a hint of annoyance.

“How many other people in town?”

“Hm, about four so far including Katie. I was very busy on Saturday.” Alastor continued his nonchalant answers. Angel crossed his legs and placed his elbow on the surface of the table. His head leaning in his hand. “No elbows.” He said without looking up. Angel’s mouth puckered and he put his hands in his lap. He maintained a skeptical glance on the other man as he reached for lo mien. “What?” Alastor grunted.

“I dunno.” Angel answered. His hands inelegantly opened the sweaty white carton. He grabbed the chopsticks and messily broke them apart. Alastor was the one glaring now.

“Again. I’m sorry about dinner.”

“It’s okay, give me some of your booze after we eat and all is forgiven.”

“Ugh.” Alastor grumbled. “Deal.” He caved. He carefully brought his steamed broccoli to his lips. “It’s a shame there’s no way for me to cook for you. I do enjoy it.”

“Are you kidding? I love cooking too! You could drop by my place sometime we’ll make something!” He perked up instantly. “What are we gonna cook? I have the cutest cookin’ ware. I got all pink from the home shoppin’ network.” He began to ramble. Angel paused once he saw the look on Alastor’s face. It had been the same as when he was talking to him earlier in the day. It was simultaneously sexy and unsettling. A smile that wasn’t contrived fixed to his swarthy lips. “Al, stop it.” He murmured as his head lowered bashfully. “Jesus maybe I should I get that drink now?”

“Don’t act all shy now.” Alastor teased. Angel rolled his eyes in response. His cheeks warming. He kept his gaze on the dull faux wooden tabletop.

“I’m not.” Angel lips tightened. He settled into quiet as they ate. “What are we doin’ after dinner?”

“I was going to read. I suppose you’ll be watching the television.”

“Nah. I’ve got a better idea.” He started to smirk. A challenging raise of his eyebrows lingered while he stared.

“What?” Alastor tilted his head. Only speaking when he was absolutely done chewing and swallowing. Angel rubbed the tip of his shoe against the fabric of Alastor’s slacks.

“You’ll see.”

“Stop that.”

* * *

**ALASTOR AUGUST 1 ST 1998**

**12:30 AM**

With tentative steps he shadowed Angel through the corroded stairwell. His hips swayed like the whiskey sloshing about in the glass bottle he was clutching. Tight white shorts peaked from under his furry pink jacket with each advancing step. Hypnotized by the fluidity. Angel lost his footing. His body flew forward once they reached the top of the stairs. Alastor put down the bottle and went to pick him up by his waist.

“Are you alright?” He asked. Angel noticeably flinched from his touch.

“Yes. Relax.” He slithered from his arms then jogged up to the door. Heavy, metal and foreboding. Angel pushed the bar mechanism with the palms of his hands. The door flew open. They were on the roof of Vegas Castle. Alastor wouldn’t have cared to be there if he were on his own. Angel was comfortable. His hand plucked the bottle from the floor. He went outside and stood behind Angel. He was sure to let the door remain slightly open.

“Booze please.” He extended his arm. Hand held out waiting for the bottle. Alastor took Angel’s hand in his instead.

“What made you want to come up here?” He found himself asking. Alastor’s eyes remained of the horizon of the empty purple sky. Angel, caught off guard for the umpteenth time that night, stared down at Alastor. Becoming bashful for no good reason at all. They were simple physical actions. No need to overthink.

“I dunno. I never really wanted to share it with anybody before.” Angel’s voice quieted. “Do you ever get sad Al?”

“No.”

“That’s not true.” Angel mumbled. He snatched the whiskey and took greedy swigs. He didn’t relinquish the bottle when he was finished. Alastor forced the bottle from him so he could take his neat pair of sips.

“Possibly.” He cleared his throat a moment. His free hand spinning the cap to seal it with his middle and ring finger.

“What are you anyway?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.” Alastor said. Afterwards Angel stared very closely at him in darkness. He felt the boy gawk. Burning a gaze onto his tawny skin. Uncomfortably lingering. “What’s more it is very rude to stare at me like that.”

“I’m askin’ like… What race are ya?”

“That is even ruder.” He forced a cackle from his throat. Angel let go of his hand and sat on the uneven floor of the roof.

“I don’t get you man.” 

“It’s simply just not something that is discussed in polite society.”

“I’m a whore. Ain’t nothing polite about me.” He snapped his fingers. Angel couldn’t stand to leave the bottle alone. He grabbed it by its neck and cradled it as if it were his child. “You’re different is all. Like ya clearly not white but you’re also not black. At least not completely.”

“I hate having this sort of conversation.” Alastor groaned. His smile closed as he took a seat beside Angel.

“Why?”

“I can’t quite explain. It doesn’t seem like a problem everyone can comprehend.” Alastor gently took the bottle from Angel. “How would you feel if a person stared at you then brazenly asked if you were a man or a woman?”

“I would just tell ‘em.” Angel shrugged.

“See?”

“Sorry then.” He lowered his head in disgrace.

“Apology accepted.” Alastor shook his bottle and hid it behind his back. He didn’t want Angel hogging his leisure liquor. He would drink him out of house and home.

“Can I lean on you?” Angel’s full lips poked out as he looked at him. Alastor gave him a curt nod. He lowered his head leaned on Alastor’s shoulder. “I’m not trying to make fun of ya by the way. I think you’re hot as fuck okay?”

“Mhm.” He hummed. Eyes focused on the door. Angel’s warm haired head nuzzling on his shoulder. His body was always so warm. Slightest grazes creating perspiration on him. “I shouldn’t have let you drink this much.” Alastor said.

“I’m fine!”

“Are you?” Alastor rose an eyebrow at him. “Come on, let’s stand up then.” He instructed. Alastor pulled Angel’s arm on his shoulders and hoisted him to his feet. Angel began to complain in inebriated grumbles. “Come now. It’s not too bad.”

“I’m on my feet all day at work.” Angel whined. Alastor found himself chuckling at him. He had enough strength to turn his body. The two men face to face. “Do you know how to dance? Surely that will rouse you?” He took Angel’s hand and put his other hand on his waist.

“There’s no music.” Angel commented.

“We make our own music.” Alastor responded. His words soft as they left his lips. In turn Angel did seem to wake up. Swaying his body as he leaned into the shorter man’s frame.

“We look fuckin’ crazy.” He laughed. Alastor started to snicker as well.

“Aren’t we?”

“Haha, very funny mother fucker.” Angel said in a monotone.

“We’re away from prying eyes. It’s fine.” His hand slid from Angel’s waist to the small of his back. They stepped around in tiny circles. Alastor spinning his taller counterpart every so often.

“I guess I kinda hear the imaginary music now.” Angel’s cheek found Alastor’s neck and gently they met. Skin on skin. It was enough for him to revel in the sensation. Radiated commonality transference betwixt their bodies. “But I’m still pretty tired.” Alastor found himself sighing. But there was no need to. It wasn’t like he was overtly enjoying the dance. He let go of Angel and grabbed the glass bottle off the floor.

“Come then.” He stated.

“Yeah, I gotta get home.”

“Nonsense. It’s become quite late. Just spend the night here.” Alastor said. Angel seemed surprised by the offer. “Is something the matter?”

“You’re letting me stay with you?”

“Well, yes.”

“In the same bed?”

“It is innocent enough. So long as you know how to behave.” He went to the door and pulled it all the way open and summoned Angel with a wave of his arm.

“Al, y’know I’d hate to fuck up the mood but I gotta tell you something-”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Come on, let’s get downstairs.” He interrupted. Alastor waited for Angel, who took his sweet time getting to the door. He stumbled on the first step on the way down. This time Alastor started to laugh at him. He shook his head and walked into the stairwell. After shutting the door behind him and went to walk beside Angel, before he took an even more hilarious spill.

When they returned to the room Angel immediately stripped off his clothing. Alastor’s eyes remained on the floor.

“I’ll get you something to wear.” He announced. Hands rummaging in the dresser drawer for one of his least favorite shirts. He tossed it on the bed and went to the bathroom to change into his sleepwear. It consisted of a plain white undershirt and his pinstriped pajamas. He furrowed his eyebrows at his reflection. How ridiculous? Having Angel spend the night. Why was he saying so many stupid things that he’d never dare to utter? It certainly was not the whiskey. He wasn’t a loose lipped drinker. Why did he dance with the lad? The same way his mother would hoist him into one of the ancient wooden dining room chairs when he was but a child. They’d dance to nothing all the time. When it was time for him to be let down? He inhaled her deeply. He wasn’t sure why he associated this desire with his mother. It could’ve been because she was the only person he’d truly loved. Maybe he was just filled with err like any other man? Alastor had only read Oedipus Rex once. He skimmed it every so often. Just to check if he was still unsettled by it. The cotton of his shirt was cool against his skin. He found that he was in the bathroom longer than he meant to be. Having a miniscule panic attack the thought of sharing a bed with Angel.

“We having a sleepover!” He heard Angel cheer from outside. He stepped out silently. His eyes just catching a glimpse of Angel in his underwear as he put on Alastor’s shirt. “I’m gonna put your hand in a cup of warm water so you pee the bed Al.”

“If you so much as touch me while I’m asleep? I’ll break your hand.” He said with his eyes widening, emitting a certain rage he so often tried to conceal.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ!” Angel gasped from Alastor’s words. “You’re so fuckin’ quiet. Is it the shoes?” Alastor didn’t speak anymore. He walked to his luggage, taking out a book out. He shut off the main lights of the room. The only illumination was from the bedside table. He settled on the right side of the bed. Angel got on the bed after him. Sitting on the heels of his feet and pouting at him.

“What?” Alastor asked. An annoyed respire coming from his lungs.

“Am I staying the night cause you’re gonna pity fuck me tonight?”

“Absolutely not.”

“When then?”

Alastor sighed again. He glanced over to Angel. His eyes held on him too long.

“Hm… Wednesday.” Alastor finally said. He opened the novel to its bookmarked page. “Now what?”

“You wear a lot of clothes to bed…” Angel trailed off. “Also I wanna kiss.” Alastor didn’t care how offended the younger male would be. He made sure to look visibly annoyed with his smile still intact. Angel didn’t seem offended. From his peripheral he could see his lower lip trembling from the silence.

“Fine. Get over here.” He spoke in a stern voice. Alastor took one of his hands off the book and lifted in. Angel took his place in Alastor’s armpit. No kisses had landed just yet. His gloved fingers had been turning the frayed pages of the book. Alastor was uncomfortable. The closeness, the quickened beats of his heart, the aroma of Angel’s soap wafting into his nose. His Adam’s apple bobbed against the fabric of his pajama shirt. This had to stop.

“What are ya reading?”

“Their Eyes Were Watching God.”

“That book school makes you read?” Angel scrunched up his nose as he stared up at Alastor.

“I guess.” His voice raised as he replied. Angel cuddled closer. His eyes slipping closed as the tip of his nose rubbed against the collar of Alastor’s shirt.

“You smell like B.O.”

“Shut up.” Alastor hissed.

“Will you read some of it to me?”

“What do you think this is? A bedtime story?” He said in a curt quip. There Angel was again. Pouting and being pitifully cute. Alastor dramatically groaned as his eyes looked to the ceiling. “Damn it. Fine.” He caved yet again. Alastor cleared whatever mucus lingered at the back of his throat. He pushed his glasses further up his nose. _“…‘the wind came back with triple fury, and put out the light for the last time. They sat in company with the others in other shanties, their eyes straining against crude walls and their souls asking if He meant to measure their puny might against His. They seemed to be staring at the dark, but their eyes were watching God’…_ ”

**+++**

Lying awake in the darkness of the room was common for Alastor. Tonight he found his thoughts rampant with self judgment. Angel curled into him like a pet. Sleeping soundly with his lips parted slightly. He was as comfortable as he could be while Alastor’s chest had been tight with conscious anxiety. His stomach in knots. He feared to even think of what type of hunger brewed in his privates. He mind tossed the idea of him sleeping with Angel. His tonsils ached and he felt dizzy while laying perfectly still. Alastor had no idea how he would even pull that off. This could continue but there were stipulations. He needed to be dominant. Alastor was becoming softer, mortal. His humanity peeking out whenever Angel was near. He hated feeling weak. Perhaps the intercourse would be his way of providing the message. Something like the first time the two of them had a sexual encounter. He also remembered how unjustly furious had been. It was a necessary expense. Alastor decided long ago he was the perpetrator and never the victim. If that meant framing Angel into a subordinate position then it was necessary for his mental strength. Alastor had to always be in control.

* * *

**ANGEL AUGUST 3 rd 1998**

**9:30 PM**

Angel had to sneak out of Alastor's room in Tuesday morning. He didn't want to disturb him. Angel noticed how difficult it had been for Alastor to actually fall asleep so when he seemed to be experiencing REM at last he didn't want to ruin it. He felt bad about leaving him but he shouldn't have spent the night in the first place. He was probably a large disruption in whatever crazy man things he did. Angel did however keep the shirt. He was starting a collection of treasures that formerly belonged to Alastor. For when he was sad or lonely. Or even when the flashes of Vox and Val came. He inhaled the fabrics deep. It was like smoking a cigarette only not.

When Wednesday had arrived Angel was as happy as a kid in a candy store. Only it was instead a homo in a dick store and Angel hit the jackpot. He took the day off. Of course Valentino didn't know that but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Angel needed to fall off the radar. He was on Val's shit list and once he found out about Alastor he was going to be in for more wrath than he could ever manage. He had to relish in the excitement while he could. He spent the day pampering himself. Taking a nice long bath in his trailer, playing with Fat Nuggets and eating candy he got at the Walmart. Cherri swung by and picked him up. Helped with his hair and makeup. She was as excited as he was. It was like he was losing his virginity all over again. 

"Oh my god bitch you have to tell me everything!" Cherri spoke loudly over the Faith Hill playing on her radio. Angel swayed to the music and grinned from ear to ear. 

"Bitch, don't get fresh. This is private." 

"Ange." Cherri's words seemed admonishing. The two began to cackle. 

"Okay I'll tell you about his dick but that's it!" Angel bargained. She took one of her hands off the steering wheel and they slapped each other five. She pulled up to Vegas Castle. Angel stared into his purse. 

"Condoms?" She asked. 

"Check." 

"Lube?" 

"Also check." 

"Cigarettes for after?"

"Got it." 

"Okay, you go boy! Get in there and get your asshole pounded." Cherri applauded. Her grin as big as his was. 

"Oh my god bitch." Angel laughed and hopped out the van. "I'll see you tomorrow for sure." He said. Cherri blew a kiss at him and sped away. When Angel got to the door it had been cracked. That wasn't like Alastor but he shrugged it off.

**+++**

Angel was under the rough covers of the motel bed. It meant little to him. In some ways he felt as if it were his marital bed and Alastor would arrive soon to consummate the union. He sighed in elation. Only wearing lace underwear. He already knew his makeup was just right. Cherri helped with it earlier in the day. Anticipation was porous. Especially when his gaze shifted to the bathroom door. He could barely contain his excitement. The bathroom door opened with an easy squeak. Alastor was in the doorway, fully dressed. Angel laughed a bit.

“You’re still wearing clothes.” He told him, as if he’d forgotten or something. Alastor didn’t speak. He loosened the Windsor knot of his tie as he walked to the light switch and flicked it off. Angel frowned in disbelief. He didn’t immediately judge. Something definitely felt off. A gust of manmade wind came when Alastor flew the covers off of him. He pulled him by his calves and turned him over. The most perturbing aspect had been that Alastor wasn’t speaking to him. Alastor was a regular chatterbox any other time with his unnecessary big words. Now he could only hear the other man’s stilted breaths. Angel felt the soft leather of Alastor’s gloves. So he was obviously still wearing those as well. Alastor’s hands ran down Angel’s back down to his underwear. He gripped the fabric of the lace and ripped it loudly. It made Angel wince. Alastor did the same with the other side then threw the remnants of the underwear elsewhere. Angel felt more confused than anything. Alastor forced both of his arms behind his back. The silk of the tie wrapped tightly on his wrists to bind them in place. This didn’t feel romantic at all. Alastor parted Angel’s legs but didn’t so much as touch his cock. He was more focused on the position, which turned out to be Angel being bent over with his ass in the air and not much else.

“Lubricant.” Were the first words he heard from him.

“It’s on the nightstand.” Angel replied with a nervous twinge in his muffled words. Alastor reached for it and then came the swishing of the pants. The audible signal of the start of intercourse. It was normal from his job or from Val but here? He was still holding out hope. There was still time for the tone to shift. If Alastor was nervous he should’ve just told him beforehand.

* * *

**ALASTOR AUGUST 3RD 1998**

**10:39 PM**

Alastor moved rotely. He tried desperately to not become intoxicated by Angel’s scent or his soft palpable skin. The only intimate way he’d touched the younger man was now. His fingers putting lubricant into Angel but being mindful of not arousing himself. His other hand stroking himself out of necessity. He was playing the role he supposed was desired. Proving his manhood and negating all abnormality inside of him. All while being in control. He couldn’t help but be upset by the lingering slippery gel that lingered on his gloves. Against Alastor’s mental wishes he wiped the remains on the bed sheets then steered himself into Angel’s primed opening. Alastor wasn’t sure if he was doing any of it correctly. When Angel’s anus seemed to resist the penetration he paused. Angel wiggled his hips as if to invite him all the way in. Alastor took in a deep breath then fully pushed himself inside. They moaned in unison. Unfortunately that wasn’t acceptable. Alastor soaked in him for a millisecond then he rocked his hips while inside of Angel. He likened the intercourse to a hot shower. Wet, enveloping his entire form. Alastor often hated showers and bathing. He only robotically did the act out of childlike obligation. His mind tossed the concept of whether he enjoyed or hated this. His body however shivered with each arduous prod inside of Angel. The sex made him feel weak, mortal, and vulnerable. His fingers dug into Angel’s hips. The younger male whining in reaction to Alastor’s every movement. Every single touch. Something about it felt erroneous.

He shouldn’t have reveled in any of the pleasure but his own. No tenderness. He needed to be rough and assertive. Masculine. Like the men in the snuff him he’d watched over and over. With brutal impulse Alastor drove his cock deep into Angel. Unmerciful and slow with each thrust. There were no more moans, only grunts. He started with putting his hand on the back of Angel’s head. Then he gripped his hair and violently pulled his head upward as he fucked him. Alastor didn’t look down at Angel in the darkness of the room but he knew he wasn’t comfortable. Alastor’s body began to weaken in the beginning waves of his climax. He pounded harder, slower until he was at his very edge. He pulled out and turned Angel over. Letting go of the other man’s hair. His eyes looked over the velvety skin of Angel’s visage. Alastor licked his lips. He was still touching himself. Angel was his immobile prey. He shifted, further bringing his body onto his. Alastor jerked his dick over Angel’s face.

“Al, no. Please don’t.” He whined. Alastor felt guilty for a moment but he pushed it away. Angel asked for this. Alastor’s orgasm threatened to explode him. With an unapologetic and angry moan Alastor started to come. He cruelly pressed the head of his cock on Angel’s cheek as he came. Angel whimpered as he tried to move his head away but this only aided the climax. Alastor’s seed ran down the younger’s males skin. His heart pounding loudly inside of him. Once he was done he felt the shame and the sadness. He thought it would be different if he was in control. Alastor immediately learned that it didn’t matter once he woke from his trance. Nausea pooled at the bottom of his stomach when his orgasm was finished. He stared down at what he’d done. Angel’s hurt expression. His body lurched forward and he gagged. Alastor didn’t have time to speak to Angel or zip his slacks. His legs were running to the bathroom toilet so he could vomit.


	11. I Want You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Alastor totally screwed up everything with Angel. They both have their respective drug binges. There are dire consequences in both cases.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry you guys I was moving and stuff last week but I'm here. I am not ghosting you guys. Enjoy <3 I love the comments so don't be shy leave one if you like.

**ANGEL AUGUST 4 TH 1998 **

**11:00 PM**

He heard the other man heave loudly in the bathroom. Angel felt utterly empty. Alastor had left him on the bed. Feeling used then discarded. He felt that often. This time was more stinging. No aftercare. Just alone with his agonizing thoughts. His nose filled with snot to signal the imminent tears. His eyes burned. He rolled over and wiped his face on the comforter. Alastor’s sticky semen clung to the tips of his hair. His wrists still bound behind his back. Angel angrily moved his hands about until the tie was loosened. He angrily flung it away from him when it was loose enough. By that time he was sobbing. He got up from the bed and staggered to the chair where he put his clothes. Angel couldn’t see much past his tears. He hated himself. He never got anything right. There comes a point where you become exhausted from being so stupid. As he pulled on his skirt he found himself collapsing into himself. His body being weakened from his sobbing. The tears ran down his cheeks, into his mouth and lips, along the bridge of his nose. He feigned deep breaths. They didn’t help.

Once his crop top was on he grabbed his purse and went outside the room, only leaving the door open a crack. He wished he had drugs. It was a joke. The entirety of it. His life and what it had become. A cruel sick joke. He sat on the floor of the concrete pavement and his trembling fingers brought a cigarette to his mouth, followed by his lighter. Somehow smoking had made him feel worse. Angel resumed his silent tears, staring at the horizon of the parking lot. He wanted nothing more than to be dead already. The door creaked all the way open. Alastor had been tucking his shirt into his pants. An empty stare and default smirk on his lips.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked with a callous crossing of his arms.

“What’s wrong with me? What the fuck was that?” Angel blubbered. He used the back of his hand to wipe the wetness away from his face hurriedly. It had been too late but he didn’t want to cry in front of Alastor.

“That was sex.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I don’t understand.” Alastor muttered. “I gave you what you wanted.”

“You are fucking insane ya know that?” Angel’s body shivered in Alastor’s presence now. “You’re just like Val. You’re both the fucking same.” He tried to hide his face when his tears returned in spades.

“I was simply fulfilling your request. I’m not sure what you’re so upset about. I don’t see how that makes me anything like your pimp.”

“When I asked ya to fuck me I meant you! Not whatever psychopathic alter ego that was!” Angel started to yell. “I meant like when I first jerked off in front of you or how we were in the car! Not like you’re another trick!” He forced himself to stand. His tears had made his cigarette soggy. He tossed it away. “That’s how. It feels like you did this to me on purpose. Like you wanted to hurt me.” Angel found himself too close in Alastor’s personal bubble but he couldn’t bring himself to care while he was screaming at him. Alastor’s expression didn’t even have the decency to change. “I just want somebody to treat me like a human! You know what? It’s even worse than Val. You’re like my fucking dad!”

“How is it my fault that you’re looking for daddy in every man who sticks their cock inside you?” Alastor asked him coolly. Angel’s face fell. He was balling his fist with rage. The words reverberating off his entire being. Fiery pitchforks prodding him with wrath.

“Fuck you Alastor! Well what are ya looking for then? Someone to suck the life out of?” He spat. Alastor didn’t have a comeback. Angel shook his head at the shorter man. “I get it. I’m disgusting but, I didn’t know ya couldn’t even stand to look at me while fucking me.”

“Listen Angel, it’s not exactly because of you-” Alastor’s voice softened.

“Of course it’s because of me! Stop fucking lying to me you fucking narcissist!” Angel blurted out. Alastor’s eyes had widened from the reply. Angel couldn’t bear to continue the shouting match. He started to walk away from Alastor. He wondered what was more painful: the deception, the sex or the fact that Alastor just let him leave.

Angel wasn’t sure where he was going. He paced by the dumpsters behind the motel. He needed drugs. Fucking Alastor joined the gallery unpleasant flashes in his brain. Intruding by repeating the worst bits of it. How else could he make it go away? He bit the bullet, inhaling deeply as he walked towards Val’s room. That was the only place he could go. Too embarrassed to see if Husk was working or to find Cherri. He could get what he needed and at least make money. Angel kept his breaths shallow while he made his way to the room. His eyes peeking around the corner with caution. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. Though his knees weakened and his fingers trembled? He knocked on the cold frame of the door. Something in the back of his fucked up mind reassured him it would be better. Because at the very least he’d be high. When Val opened the door he glared down at Angel. Heat pulsing from behind the lenses of his sunglasses.

“Where the fuck you been?” He asked. Angel dropped his head low.

“Val you gotta help me.” He whimpered in response. He crossed his arms over his own chest protectively and bent forward.

“Get your boney ass in here.” Was all he heard. Angel was snatched inside by his jacket and flung onto the closest bed. “Answer the question Angel cakes.” With a trembling lower lip Angel stayed quiet. Fearing the penalties of being truthful.

“I was with him.” He couldn’t stand to utter Alastor’s name in Val’s presence. His lips twitched as if he were furious. Val hesitated. He walked away to grab his carton of Newports. His body initially weighed down the bed when he sat next to Angel. He stuffed a single yellow stained cigarette between Angel’s lips. His eyes might’ve brightened by the sight of it. He fumbled for his lighter.

“And he hurt you?” Val’s voice inquired with calculating purpose. Sure Alastor hurt his feelings and he was definitely heartbroken but he didn’t exactly harm him the way Val would. Angel shrugged as he inhaled his PCP dipped cigarette. “Say he hurt you. So you’ll learn your lesson. I’m the only one who’ll take care of you.” He became more terrifying with an aggressive growl underlying his request.

“But he didn’t-” Angel was cut off by Valentino striking his cheek with the back of his hand. Angel was tired of sniveling and feeling his face sting from men who claimed they cared for him.

“Then why are you covered in come and tears?” He asked him. Angel lowered his head. “Say it.”

“I-I, I guess so?” Angel stuttered. Praying for the high to kick in sooner than later. Val forced his mouth onto his. That was the last thing he wanted. Angel tried to move his face away but it was no use.

“Don’t be scared. It’s me. I just want you to learn your lesson.” His tone was more lecherous than comforting. “That’s why I got all this for you. I knew you’d need it. You know I take care of you.”

* * *

**ALASTOR AUGUST 4 TH 1998 **

**1:00 PM**

He hadn’t slept since he penetrated Angel. Once the young man had left he realized he found some form of enjoyment in the debauched actions. Finishing on his supple warm skin. The way he shifted uncomfortably underneath him. The heat of their frames transmitting betwixt each other. Two bodies becoming one in a sordid display of human longing. He was left wanting more. This was why he had to resist his urges. Alastor’s heart beat hadn’t calmed since. The space between his legs radiated an unfamiliar throbbing heat each time he ruminated on the intercourse. He would immediately feel embarrassed by the uncomfortableness of it all. 

Hunger contorted his stomach. It wasn’t the kind that required a meal. It was Alastor’s unavoidable bloodlust. A lust he’d resisted for forty eight hours. His normalcy was compromised. His stomach turned and his esophagus shortened. Bubbling from hollowness. He couldn’t shake the elements of the sex. Nor could he surmise how it made him feel beside the depraved pleasure. Alastor dragged the blade across his belly. Creating an additional incision in his skin among the array of scars. Alastor didn’t bother to attempt an apology to Angel. A small voice in his mind told him he needed to. No. Instead he ordered an escort to visit his room. Humiliated from the request alone. Saying he’d take no other woman besides a platinum blonde with short hair. Tall and thin, since finding someone who was more athletic would probably be unlikely. Giving the escort hotline a fake name. Alastor began to button his shirt when his ears spied rapping on the door. His head turned. He cleared his throat with purposefulness and excitement in his strides. His wing tip dress shoes skidded somewhat against the carpet. Alastor’s index finger twirled about the brassy doorknob then finally he opened the door.

“Hey.” The woman sang the greeting. She was tall enough. Short blond hair. Too straight, it didn’t have the luster that Angel’s had. “You ready for a party?”

“Please, come in.” Alastor pulled the door open all the way. She switched her hips and sat at the foot of the bed. “What I want to do is a little abstract if that’s alright?”

“Oh course baby. I’m down for anything.” She purred at Alastor. Internally he cringed. He went to his prepared glass of whiskey and sat across from her. His fingers cradled it with care. This scene looked familiar but in its stead his dialectically androgynous friend was being played by a different actor. She could barely live up to the role.

“What I need you to do is get in the shower as if this were your room.” He started to instruct. The girl appeared to be vacant in thought. Her lifeless blonde tendrils shifting on her empty skull. “I will give you a moment to become comfortable amidst cleansing yourself then I will come in. We are going to pretend that I am your husband and that we are going to have sex while in the in shower. Is that clear?”

“Oooo, I love roleplaying.”

“Great so start now.” Alastor replied in a monotone. His hand fished into his vest. He glanced at his pocket watch. The woman of the night with a look of perplexity stood and allowed herself to be shooed into the bathroom. He waited for the bathroom’s choir of sound. The shower being turned on. The slight sounds of footsteps on the tile of the cheap ceramic tub. Alastor was beginning to feel impatient. He allowed a couple more minutes to pass then went into his suitcase, grabbing his medium sized knife by its handle and tip toeing to the door. He was sure to be soundless when opening the door. The woman was showering as if it were another day, just as requested. His heart palpitated from the anticipation.

“Honey?” she said. A disgusting and unsettling smirk formed on his lips He refused to reply. He reached for the shower curtain then pulled it back hard. His prostitute shrieked and he lunged forward. His first stab landed between her breasts. He felt the blade hit the bone. He retracted his knife and plunged it into her once more. Deeper. Blood gushed from her wounds and her body loudly hit the floor of the tub. The tepid water from the shower head began to make his hair and clothes sodden. She tried to protect herself to no avail. Her hands covering her face and neck. The blade penetrating the flesh paired with the hot water reminded him of sex. Everything felt so impure. It was like he ate from the tree of knowledge. Now he was aware of his own nakedness. Vulnerability. He wished he could turn back. The impudence creating an unfillable black hole that he had to fill with earthly desires. Death, life. The pounding beating of his own heart. While the woman writhed in her own blood Alastor cackled with delight. He was immediately reminded of the other day. When Angel asked him why he killed and in turn he maliciously asked why he did drugs. In that moment Alastor realized their reasoning. It was one in the same. The answer: to fill the hunger, to fill the internal void. It was the unchanged an answer. They both were addicted.

The prostitute’s lungs released its last breath. Her mouth and eyes wide open. Alastor watched the shower water run down her pallid skin. Ultimately sinking into the bottom of the tub then down the drain in a light pink hue. He found himself panting in his silence. She was done for but there was nothing wrong with being safe. His knife went to her neck then sliced easily through her throat. Blood sprayed from the hole like a geyser much to his satisfaction. Alastor watched the light slowly fade from her eyes and at last he felt satiated. Right up until the thrill of the blood faded.

* * *

**ANGEL AUGUST 5 TH 1998 **

**2:00 AM**

Groans of springs. Inconsequential thrusts of hips. His asshole numb from the drugs. He was thankful for it. Waning in and out of darkness. This time was unlike his other blackouts. The darkness continued longer. When he was coherent Val was right there. Giving him more and more things to keep him compliant. Something was off during the times of brightness. He wasn’t sure what but, Angel was able to forget the pain at least so he let the darkness envelope him. The darkness devoured him. Breathing escaped him. Was that the darkness or was it something else? He struggled as he was moved about by the shadowy clients that took their turns. Angel could sleep for the rest of his life if he could. It felt like he was only asleep. Part of his mind urged him not to. Coarse hands closed on his throat. A thumb pressed on his windpipe. He could barely manage lifting his hand to stop the trick. Everything about his body was heavy. It was as if his bones were suddenly metal. The very attempt of moving his limbs was exhausting. Light came again and he could see the blurry version of the ceiling. The outline of the man trying to get a reaction from him. Angel permitted his heavy eyelids to close. His body went limp as the inky blackness of his immobility submerged him. Like sinking in a lake and finally hitting the bottom.

* * *

**CHERRI AUGUST 5 TH 1998**

**5:00 AM**

“Val?” Cherri called out. She tossed her folded bills onto the bed closest to the door. No sign of anyone just yet. She began flopped onto the bed and exhaled from her mouth. Bile rose up her esophagus, heart burn. God, she hoped she wasn’t pregnant. She heard a troubling gurgling from the bathroom. She leaned on her elbows as she lifted her upper body. With eyebrows furrowed she slid off the bed. Cherri was tottering. She approached the open door. Her mouth opened with horror. Both hands instinctively covered it. 

“Angel?” Cherri jogged to the bathtub. His legs hung over the side. The rest of his body in the tub. Armed splayed like Jesus Christ on the cross. His eyes closed and his skin covered in sweat. His strands of white hair distressed to a straw like texture. A very noticeable path of blood coming from his left nostril. He was still. She began to shake him as the fear rose inside of her. Electrifying each action she made. “Angel!” She shouted. “Fuck.” Cherri choked under her breath. It was all fine when she OD’ed. She knew it would be okay somehow. That she’d go running and screaming back into the light. The limitations haunted her here. In this bathroom she couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t go inside of Angel and bring him back if he died. She wouldn’t know what to do without him.

**+++**

He was propped up in the passenger seat while she swirled about the empty highway. Cherri’s eye had tears dripping from it. From sheer fear. Fear of Angel dying, fear of her being alone. How long had he been by himself? Overdosing and abandoned. More tears came. Where the fuck was Val? If she could she would shoot him right between the eyes. Her tires slid as she turned into the trailer park. The van lurched forward when she hit the brakes. In turn Angel’s body flew forward and slammed against the dashboard.

“Shit.” Cherri cussed under her breath. She hauled his heavy body to the small set of stairs that led inside of the motorhome. Sweat and tears mixed unforgivingly in a reprehensible concoction on her pale freckled skin. She dragged Angel to his bed and dropped onto the mattress. Laying on his back. She’d at last get to practice her stupid CPR skills for school. Her mouth wrapping around his and giving him a hopeful kiss of life. Two large exhales followed by pushes on his chest. Nothing. She held her ear to his chest. Slow beats. He wasn’t completely gone but he still needed help. She wasn’t going to fail him. She breathed into Angel once more then proceeded with the chest compressions. This time it appeared she had been successful. Angel stirred with a coughing fit. His fighting eyes too tired to open. She laughed a bit in relief and pulled him into an embrace, sounding as if he’d propel a lung from out his throat at any second. Cherri rubbed his back and nuzzled his shoulder. The coughing calmed but they weren’t out of the woods yet.

* * *

**ANGEL AUGUST 5 TH 1998**

**5:45 am**

He was half in and half out of lucidity. He was the most awake when Cherri was giving him water to drink. His belly expanded from all of the liquid. He couldn’t find the strength to tell her he was good on his fluids. She had changed his clothes into something more comfortable. A t shirt and basketball shorts. He rolled over on his side and faced the wall beside his bed. Closing his eyes and curling up into a ball.

“Hey Husky, put me on with that guy Angel’s been hanging out with.” He heard Cherri speak into the phone. “I don’t know what room? Can’t you look? Yes him!” She scoffed. “Thank you. Shit.” Cherri’s voice went soft once more. “Hey listen. I don’t know how but Angel OD’ed.” She paused, shifting on the bed. One of her hands began to stroke his back. “I don’t fucking know. I just told you. I found him like that. I don’t know where the fuck you were though- I’m not saying it’s your fault asshole I thought I’d tell you. Don’t you care?” Silence again. He surmised he was on the phone with Alastor, he wasn’t ecstatic at the idea of him knowing. “Well I don’t really give a fuck, listen if you’re gonna check up on him here’s the address-”

* * *

**ALASTOR AUGUST 5 TH 1998**

**5:30 AM**

Alastor turned down the clock radio provided by the oh so compliant staff of Vegas Castle. Static lessening with a turn of the dial. He whistled along to the tune of Green Onions playing from the mediocre speakers. A bone saw in one hand and a cigar in the other. He bopped to the open bathroom. Puke pink tile strained by his victim’s blood reminded him of a slaughterhouse. He sat at the edge of the tub. Putting his cigar between his lips and inhaling carefully. His hands worked on sawing part of the woman’s arm. He’d gotten her toes, feet, calves and thighs. Alastor could admit that this particular kill was messier than his last. Somehow reveled in the impulsivity of it all. The arm wasn’t parting from her frame easily. He put more elbow grease into his sawing motion. Once it finally was removed the force made him slip back a little. Blood was already on his clothes. That was fine. He heard a knock on the door and groaned. Alastor tossed the severed arm into the tub with the rest of carcass.

“Housekeeping!” He heard female voice say. His hand tossed the bone saw aside then his fingers took hold of the cigar once more. The jostling of keys was audible. Before he knew it the door was opening.

“Oh no thank you. I don’t need anything-” He tried to intercept. She had already invaded his space. The young cleaning girl from the other week came inside. He remembered her from when he attempted to retrieve his journal. What a shame? She was clueless initially. When she caught a glimpse of the bloody scene behind him and his crimson stained clothes she gasped.

“I was- you’ve been staying here quite a while so I figured I would just clean-” She rambled nervously. Her eyes glanced to the door. Her brown bob swishing every which way.

“I wish you hadn’t.” Alastor shook his head. He spoke in a chastising tone. He truly didn’t. Now he had to kill the girl. It was her own doing. She sprinted for the door but he had a height advantage. In a few strides he was ahead of her. His arm hovered over her head. He shut the door before she could reach it. She stared up at him in terror.

“I’m sorry sir. I promise I won’t say anything, please!”

“I wish I could believe you.” He sighed. His hands seized her by her throat. He aimed to break her neck. She struggled too much. Her hands trying to grasp his face. “You’re only making it worse for yourself.” Alastor said in a low grunt. He turned her head quickly. With a loud crack she dropped to the floor. Alastor felt the annoyance permeating from his pores. He dragged her by both ankles into the bathroom. He couldn’t enjoy his cigar any longer. He threw it into the toilet. His room phone began to ring. Alastor dragged his feet while walking to the end table and reluctantly answered.

“Pardon?” He murmured from the news. “How did that happen?” Alastor tried his best not to frown. For the most part he was successful. “Well you aren’t implying that this is somehow my fault are you- I never stated that I didn’t care.” Angel’s friend had a bad habit of talking over him. He became more impatient by the second. Alastor grabbed the motel notepad so he could jot down the address given by the agitated girl. “I appreciate the update.” He murmured in a monotone before hanging up. Tossing the notion of checking on Angel when he had two dead women to deal with.

**+++**

When the sun dipped into the horizon his anxieties got the best of him. When the sky completely darkened he made his final decision. He couldn’t simply lie in wait to be updated on Angel. Cherri had told him he was stable. Still Alastor found himself driving to the address provided. Eye glancing at the roadsides of the highway. It didn’t matter that he had two bodies to dispose of or that his bloodlust hadn’t been assuaged. He had to see Angel for himself. Even though he made him cross because of his abnormality. Alastor remembered everything so vividly. Children in school called him creepy, soft, or queer. Usually it was all of the above. He swore to hide it. A secret oath he made with himself. Odds stacked against him even when he was a child. Being mixed, his father leaving, his confusion about his sexuality. All of it had been too much. He wondered why as an adult man any of that mattered. Along with why it was so essential to wear the persona he’d created. Sand kicked up as his tires turned into the trailer park. He glanced at the paper on the dashboard where he’d scribbled the address. Alastor barely needed it. Once he parked the coupe he knew which place had been Angel’s. His feet moved from step to step until he was at the door. He knocked to no response. He decided to just try opening the door. It was unlocked. Angel was a lump in the shadows of a mauve comforter. Alastor observed his minute movements with a keen and eager eye. Angel began to stir. Hydrangeas hued skin blossomed in the shadows under his heterochromatic eyes in the darkness. Especially the area where his bedroom was. Cheeks a bit sunken. Discolored skin. He didn’t need any other proof.

“What the hell to do you want?” Angel asked in a gravelly bark.

“You were right about me.” A soft shame flowed from his throat. It gently cascaded about the room until it reached Angel. Up until then there was only a rage filled silence from him.

“Which part?” He spoke once more.   
  
“About me being… Or um-” Alastor became befuddled. Tripping over his words like a toddler. “About being in the closet.”

“Oh. Yeah, I know. Welcome to the club, we got drinks.” Angel forced himself to flop onto his back.

“I very desperately want to make you understand… Would you come with me?” Alastor offered his hand. He subtly moved closer to Angel’s bed. “I don’t want to have this conversation here. If anything goes awry I don't want you to be uncomfortable in your own space.” Angel popped out of the covers with his lips tightening against each other.

“I guess that makes sense. I gotta get dressed.”

“That’s fine. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.” Alastor forced his grin to widen.

“I’m still pissed off at ya. Don’t get excited.” Angel tossed the covers aside then disappeared into the bathroom. Alastor drew in a deep breath. At least it was a start.

* * *

**ANGEL AUGUST 5 TH 1998 **

**11:35 PM**

The drive to Caesar’s Palace was painfully silent. Angel couldn’t bear to look at Alastor despite missing his handsome face. Once he was all parked they were wandering the gargantuan pillars of the hotel Angel began to feel guilty. This was the closest thing to a date they had and it wasn’t even filled with mirth or cautious touching of hands. No cheek kisses or nuzzling of necks. Only a tension that weighed down on his chest. It was mired by what had happened. If Angel hadn’t almost died would Alastor be walking beside him? Eyes glanced anywhere but each other’s faces. They ordered drinks from the outdoor bar. Their only buffer being the barman. Even when the left with their drinks they didn’t speak to each other. Angel picked at his slushed beverage with his straw.

“I don’t understand anything about sex.” Alastor broke the silence. Angel hesitated to respond. “I’ve never had any want to be with anyone. Quite frankly up until this moment in my life I found the idea of being intimate with any person repulsive.” They wandered away from Caesar’s. Angel was hyper fixated on the details of it all. “It wasn’t always that way. Before it was a simple vacancy of attraction. Over time I started to abhor humans. It amended into something different. I say all that to say. I have no idea what I’m doing. I just know I enjoy your company and… I just muddle everything at a vain attempt to mask the fact that I am not like you… Most days it feels like I am anchor weighing you down.” 

“Even if ya were, at least you keep me close to the ground.” He interrupted Alastor. His smile was wilting off his face in that moment. Angel stopped his strides by stepping in front of him. “If I would’ve known all that? I wouldn’t have made such a big deal of everything.” He shrugged. “I thought it was me you were grossed out by.”

“No. Often I feel that I am the repugnant one. It is so sickening yet so striking. It isn’t that I don’t want to do those things with you. On occasion I do-” Alastor cleared his throat and looked away from him. “I’m just defective.” The two stopped their strides in sync when they reached the vast manmade lake of Bellagio. People crowded about as the fountain part shot water upward to the tune of an opera song that Angel didn’t know.

“You’re not.” He said. Looking him over gently.

“I am.” Alastor shook his head at Angel. “I know what I did hurt you.” He muttered. That was as close to an apology he was going to get. But it was progress. At least it was earnest and filled with his humanity. 

“Listen, that’s all in the past now. Let’s just move forward?” Angel began to walk backwards then strolled beside Alastor. He wrapped his arm around Alastor’s shoulders and pulled him in. “Hey, does that mean I was ya first?” Angel asked cheekily. Returning to the playful teasing he so much enjoyed. Alastor could’ve scowled but he continued to smile. Eyelids lowered in aggravation. “Was the other night your first time?”

“Stop it.” He said.

“Oh my god! Oh shit! It was. I took your virginity.” He began to smile big while he whispered. Alastor began to growl and shoved Angel away. He couldn’t be offended by the response. It was hilarious. Though they walked side by side now there was a remarkable magnetism. Angel had almost forgotten he was dead for the better part of a day.

“Let’s not talk about that.” Alastor declared. Angel rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at Alastor playfully. He gave himself a brain freeze from guzzling the remainder of his drink.

“Hey wait a goddamn minute, how come I don’t feel drunk?”

“Because there is no alcohol in your drink.”

“What!?”

“I’m not going to jeopardize myself so you can drink. You’re not of age yet.” Alastor waved an admonishing index finger at Angel. He found himself pursing his lips. At least it was sweet but he would’ve liked a real drink. “I found myself very perturbed when your friend called me.” Angel glanced over at Alastor again. “If you had left me so prematurely? It would feel as if a star burned out. The sky would be significantly less bright.”

“Okay you fucking poet. You’ve already got to me hooked you don’t have to sweet talk me. I already think the world of you.” Angel became bashful. Forcing some laughs to conceal the way his stomach flipped and his heard pounded from the very words.

“I am being genuine. I assure you.” Alastor laughed as well. He seemed a bit flustered himself. Angel felt warmth spread in his chest by the very idea.

“You’re nicer than you let on aren’t ya?” Angel glanced into his cup so he wouldn’t have to look at that beautifully stern face.

“Don’t tell anyone or I’ll have to kill you.” Alastor pushed his shoulder against Angel, causing him to topple. Very funny. He tried to not laugh while catching his balance. He squinted his eyes at Alastor in faux contempt.

“Okay now you’re just trying to be a fucking comedian.”

“I do have great timing and a wonderful sense of humor.”

**+++**

“Did you want to spend the night with me?” Angel asked. They zoomed down the highway. Top down. Angel thought it was a horrible idea but it appeared Alastor was feeling better and thought it was more than appropriate. He didn’t fight too hard about it. “Are you hungry?” He continued to badger. “We can cook? Remember we said we’d cook together?”

“No-” Alastor answered. “To being hungry, not spending the night.” He corrected himself with an awkward swiftness. They were quiet for a good minute. Alastor’s bespectacled face stared hard at the road ahead of him. “I can spend the night.”

“A little hanky panky before bed or?” Angel requested with a slight lean of his body. “I dunno, kisses and cuddles?”

“Hm. Maybe. You look less like a corpse than when I first visited you.” He quipped. Angel scoffed at him before chuckling.

“Ya one to talk, funky! Did you even bathe since the last time I saw ya?” Angel playfully held his nose.

“I-” Alastor paused. His eyes darted about quickly. “Water has come in contact with my body since then… I’ve changed my clothes.”

“Oh no. You’re gonna take a shower mista-” Angel stopped from the sound of a balloon releasing air then he realized it was Alastor making the noise. “Did you just hiss at me?”

“No.” Alastor replied quickly. “That was one of my tires.” Angel narrowed his gaze at him.

“You’re like a little boy. You’re not getting in my bed smellin’ like Satan’s gooch.”

“This is why I told mother I never wanted a wife…” Alastor grumbled.

“Hey! Shut up! You ought to be thankin’ me. Ya should be grateful that I care so much about your cleanliness!”

“You are literally a drug addled prostitute.” Alastor spoke firmly. Slamming his hand on his steering wheel with each word.

“Don’t ya change the subject mother fucker!” Angel yelled, only pretending to be offended as he pointed his finger at Alastor.

“You have such a dirty mouth.” He shook his head slowly but he looked happy. Truly happy. That was the most important thing.

“I sure do, daddy.” He stuck his tongue out. “I can show ya how dirty it can get-”

“Stop that.” He immediately shut Angel down. They pulled into the trailer park. Alastor’s hot ride slowed to a stop.

“I don’t mean to offend ya but I do have some questions?”

“Ask away.” He shut off the coupe then waved his hand in exasperation.

“So you don’t get turned on by nothing?” After Angel asked Alastor shrugged his shoulders at him.

“I wouldn’t say nothing. Just not often.” His head turned so that he could menacingly smile in Angel’s direction. “When I’m otherwise unprovoked.” Okay okay, Angel got the hint. He curses Alastor with the horny. Which was hilarious but also he needed to be careful of. Angel didn’t want to say he could sense Alastor’s uncomfortableness in his desire. He worried it would make him feel more self-conscious. He just wanted him to not feel pressured. “Sometimes I indulge.” He spoke cavalierly.

“Wait like, how?”

“Oh Angel, you know. What’s the only way to please yourself?” He replied. Despite the condescending tone it was still attractive to hear, or even that it was being shared with him. “Do you need me to show you?” Alastor added teasingly.

“No!” Angel answered loudly. He crossed his arms over his chest huffily. Alastor began to laugh at him. His hand reached over and pinched Angel’s cheek. Angel sputtered and flailed his arms from the annoying contact. He fumbled with the handle of the car door in an attempt to escape. He feigned anger as he trudged up his stairs and opened the door. Alastor wasn’t far behind, of course.

* * *

**ALASTOR 5 TH 1998**

**11:06 PM**

He followed Angel inside. There it was again, that mortal hunger. He leaned forward ever so slightly and breathed Angel in. He salivated from the scent alone. They stepped inside. He found himself gripping the younger male by his waist. He turned his body then slammed him against the frail counter of his makeshift kitchen. He pulled Angel’s face by his chin and kissed those lips. The fleshy contact he’d been craving since he last saw him. He hungrily slid his tongue into Angel’s mouth and pressed hard against him. Angel seemed slightly resistant. His head moving backward. Alastor tightened his grip moving his hands to his forearms.

“Al-”

“Shhh.” He hushed him. “Don’t ruin it.” Alastor pushed his mouth onto Angel’s again. With more drive and appetite than the first time. “Don’t you see I’m trying to share something with you?”

“How?” Angel asked. He glanced down at Alastor with a fearful expression. Alastor found his eyes rolling in their sockets. He definitely wasn’t even listening.

“We’re going to be intimate in a way that I can be comfortable, do I really have to explain it?”

“Well can you at least bathe?” Angel asked. Alastor growled with rage. He took off his glasses and went towards Angel’s bedroom.

“Fine. If I must.” He replied apprehensively. His desire wilted from the request.

“Look you can take a shower. Okay? I’ll be right out here waiting.” Angel offered. He hurriedly went into his dresser and handed over some clothes. Alastor nodded rotely. He went into the bathroom. Bathing gave him more time to think. The critical assessment was not in his favor. He showered then came back out into Angel’s bedroom. Sporting the pajama bottoms Angel allowed him to borrow. Angel had already been under the covers, presumably nude. Alastor’s breathing began to shallow. Wait a moment, what had he gotten started? Doubt was settling in. If only Angel would’ve just dealt in the moment. 

“Shouldn’t we turn off the lights?” He asked.

“No! It’ll scare Fatty.”

“Who-” Alastor glanced to the pet bed on the floor. A pig curled up in it. Oh, that was Fatty. Or whatever its name was.

“Oh, alright.” Alastor sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from Angel as he stared to disrobe. He heard Angel gasp from the sight of his bare tan skin. His upper body littered with scars. He wanted to avoid speaking on it so he got under the blankets and let them go over his head. Angel followed the action quickly.

“What are we doing like-” Angel began to speak.

“We’re going to touch ourselves. Together.” He told him.

“We’re not allowed to touch each other?”

“Minimally, you’re not allowed touch me. For the most part.”

“So, where am I allowed to touch you?”

“Anything above the waist is fine.” He replied. Angel began to snuggle up beside Alastor.

“You sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, but stop talking. I might change my mind.” Angel’s arm reached across his body to the bedside table. He took a loud slimy handful of lube then passed it to Alastor. He breathed in through his nose and took a heaping portion as well. Alastor remained on his back. He shimmied out of the pajama pants and slowly started to stroke himself. Angel’s cheek pressed against his shoulder. He was becoming stiff from the contact. He hated it. “Um… Don’t look at it please.” He said.

“Oh! I’m sorry.” Angel answered in a weak voice. He scooted back to his spot against the wall. His body was facing Alastor as he began to rub his own cock. Alastor saw fit to follow suit. He couldn’t help but breathe harder when they faced each other. Angel’s hands were more eager. His eyes flicking to Alastor’s chest and face as he moaned quietly. Alastor could feel himself withdraw from the embarrassment. His eyes decided to observe Angel’s form as well. That made it less weird. “Can we kiss?” He asked. Alastor had been sliding his closed fist up the base of his member. He couldn’t see it but he could feel his precome oozing from the slit of his cock head. He shuddered. This was also just as good as sex he told himself. Alastor hated that his mind instantaneously ranked each encounter like that. Anything with Angel felt good point blank. He need to engrain that sentiment in himself. He nodded his head and shut his eyes. Miniscule beads of sweat formed over his brow. Angel lunged forward and brought his lips to Alastor. He excitedly swept his tongue against Alastor’s. He could hear his nostrils whistle with each excited inhale he pulled into his lungs. His teeth grazed against Angel’s fleshy bottom lip. Angel had begun to shiver with pleasure and curled into himself. Alastor’s eyes forced open.

“What happened?”

“I uh, I came.” Angel answered shyly. “I’m sorry that’s never really happened to me before.” He rambled. Anxiety pervaded his strained voice. “I guess I just like ya a lot-“

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“I don’t know, apologize?” Alastor elaborated. Angel still seemed very vexed by the premature ejaculation. “Besides, I’m not finished yet.” He found himself dragging Angel closer to him and resuming the kissing. He slid his lips to the corner of Angel’s mouth then to his chin. Alastor dug his teeth into the skin of his pallid neck. Bidding to break skin. He could get a taste of his blood on his tongue. Angel winced, he also moaned. He could inhale him completely in the moment. When Alastor was alone pleasing himself wasn’t as satisfying. Angel was beginning to get loud. He assumed he was becoming aroused all over again. Alastor groped his stiff member. Overwhelmed by his own proclivity. His mouth moved from Angel’s neck to his shoulder then to his chest. Leaving his bites wherever he desired. The other male’s hands took hold of Alastor’s face. Blood still lingering on his bottom lip as their faces converged. Alastor dared to pry open his eyes. Angel simultaneously had made the same decision. That foraging gaze of his brown and blue hues staring him down. “I can’t seem to bring myself to completion. It’s quite frustrating.” Alastor sighed. He flopped onto his back breathlessly and pulled the covers from over his head. Angel poked his head out of the blanket as well. His head leaned on his hand which he propped up against this pillow.

“Anything I can do?”

“No.” Alastor muttered. “It’s to be expected I suppose. Too much pressure.” His voice lowered. He peeked under the covers at his erection the stared up at ceiling. Angel couldn’t resist cuddling him. His soft fingers rubbed his stomach in the most conscientious fashion. Purposefully keeping his digits away from travelling to anything lower than this hips. Alastor shifted, becoming more sexually frustrated.

“Can you touch me then?” Angel queried. A lustful but also mischievous shift in his gaze. Alastor’s hardness had yet to cease.

“What the hell? Fine.” Alastor said. More lube and kisses occurred thereafter. The two hid under the sheets like two playful teenagers. Or mites who lived in the mattress. Alastor found himself becoming more stimulated just by jerking Angel off. It all felt so genuine. That was probably what made it most enjoyable. Before he knew it Angel wrapped his arms around him in an embrace. Kissing him tenderly with each stroke. His counterpart had been moaning into his mouth. A most delectable experience indeed.

“You like it when I touch you?” He whispered into Angel’s ear. He could only moan and cry out in agreement. Alastor only wished his harsh mind would stop rebuking his behavior. The actions he indulged in. Being naked and exposed in bed with another person in an earnest display of emotion. “Speak clearly then answer.” Alastor snarled at him. His other hand gripped his throat. Not tightly, not yet anyways.

“Yes.” Angel panted.

  
“Good boy.” Alastor smiled knowingly at the sweaty moaning heap Angel had become in his grasp. He was nearly there. Suddenly Alastor felt he could finish as well. He tore his hands away from Angel’s member. Angel was intuitive enough to continue the job he started. He laid atop him. It was the closest and most intense bodily contact he’d had in years. His hand rubbed his dick frantically. His lips clamped feverishly onto Angel’s. Moaning and exchanging air between each other’s lungs until the inevitable climax came. They both cried out in unison despite being seconds apart in their orgasms. Alastor had been breathing hard by the time he was done. He’d made a mess of it all. He wished he planned better. But the residual sprays of desire distracted him from such. He finished on Angel’s stomach, out of a lack of anywhere else. Angel had done the same. “Sorry about that.” Alastor rolled off of him. Feeling warm and flustered. 

“It’s whatever, pass me that towel?” Angel answered, turning away a bit. Alastor looked around before gripping the actual towel and passing it to the other male. Alastor caught his breath. Nausea came. Alastor tried to distract himself. Grabbing his glasses and putting them on his face. He glanced at Angel in his peripheral.

“I’ll be back.” He grumbled. He pulled the pajama bottoms back onto his legs, past his thighs and all the way up.

“Uh, okay…” Angel replied. Alastor ran into the bathroom. He shut the door with a vociferous slam. His gloved hands went to each side of the toilet bowl. He hovered there a moment. Waiting for the bile to rise and slosh into the clear water. Nothing came but it was better to be safe than sorry. Angel was suddenly on the other side of the door, knocking quickly.

“I said I’ll be back!”

“Okay Terminator, I’m comin’ in.” Angel declared. With a turn of the knob he was inside with Alastor. Wearing an oversized t-shirt to hide his shame. He moved from the toilet. Alastor sat on the bathroom tile in front of Angel’s bathtub. Angel sat right across from him. “I asked you if you wanted to do that.”

“I did.” Alastor narrowed his gaze at him.

“Then why were you getting ready to throw up again?”

“I don’t know.”

“I really do scare you, don’t I?” He asked. Alastor looked to the side of him. Avoiding the heavy grueling stare from Angel’s eyes. 

“I find comfort in you not being dead.” He dodged. Angel’s brown eyebrows furrowed. “Would it be worth anything to request that you don’t indulge in drugs anymore?”

“Probably not.” Angel replied. He looked disappointed in himself. Alastor turned his head away from the answer. “It’s okay Al.” He said. “I’m gonna to be with you as long as I can." Heat spread from his throat down to his heart. “Hey… So I got some bad news.”

“What?”

“My brother’s got your journal.” Angel revealed. He wrang his hands anxiously when saying it. Well, that just meant he’d have to pay the man a visit. “Al? What you thinking about?”

“Just wondering how I’ll find some semblance of personal space on the army cot you call a bed.” Alastor started smirking.

“You piece of shit.” Angel started giggling. “But, you’re a weirdo. So I’ll keep ya.” He shrugged. The loose neck of his t-shirt began to slip off his shoulder. He brought his dainty hand to his mouth. Making an audible smack sound against his hand. He blew a kiss in Alastor’s direction. He slyly lifted his hand to catch it. “Aw.” He cooed. Alastor tossed the blown kiss into the toilet bowl beside him the tapping the toilet to flush it. “Ugh. You fuckin’ hatin’ ass-” He shook his head sluggishly. Despite being hurled with vulgar epithets by the other man he found himself grinning genuinely at Angel.


	12. Born II Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor finds out that Val is the reason Angel overdosed and he is piiiissssed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing much to say guys.
> 
> TW: Death, trauma, disassociation, gun stuff, talk of suicide.
> 
> Enjoy!

**ALASTOR AUGUST 6 TH 1998 **

**3:45 AM**

Angel was sleeping beside him. Alastor assumed bodily release would supplement positively. Help him get to sleep faster than most nights. It didn’t. He laid on his back with his hands on his stomach. Patiently waiting for slumber to find him.

“No.” Angel whispered drowsily. Alastor turned his head in the darkness to look over at him. He began to move about rigidly, as if he were trying to evade intangible foes. He tilted his head at the sight of it. The other time he and Angel shared a bed this didn’t occur. “Get off of me.” Angel continued his sleepy protests. Tossing and turning with more extremity. Alastor sat up on the overly soft mattress. His hand lingered above Angel’s head. His forehead became glossy with perceptible sweat. Angel keep repeating ‘no’ and with each reiteration he sounded more in duress than the last. The boy had more problems than he originally surmised. Alastor would rather lay awake than be cursed with reliving his traumas through nightmares.

“Angel.” Alastor positioned his hand on his forehead. He didn’t wake. “Angel?” His fingers ran through his white tendrils lightly. Angel winced then opened his eyes. A visage full of fright.

“What?” Angel shouted.

“You were having a nightmare.” Alastor explained quietly.

“Yeah? Well… You wear gloves during sex so…” He defensively turned his body away, facing the wall in defiance.

“What?” Alastor snorted. Trying his damndest to avoid cackling. Angel was already asleep just as quickly as he woke. He rolled his eyes.

“I thought we was saying obvious shit.” He garbled irritably. Alastor didn’t dignify him with a response. He slid back into his comfortable position. Maybe now he’d actually be able to get some sleep?

**+++**

“You’re mean while you sleep.” Alastor called out from the kitchen. The pet pig kept trying to involve itself in human affairs. He was trying to finish his omelet, which was only egg for a lack of ingredients. The pig waited. Expecting Alastor to share. “Shoo.” He whispered to it angrily.

“Be nice to Fat Nuggets, Al!” Angel yelled from his bedroom. Dressing up for whatever clients he had today. Alastor didn’t divulge his opinion on the matter, yet.

“I am being nice.” He answered. He looked down at the pig. He in turn spun in a circle then laid down in front of Alastor’s feet under the cheap foldable breakfast table. Alastor picked at his plate.

“What did you say earlier?” Angel came to the front of the trailer. His fingers buttoning up the black crop top blazer he was wearing.

“I said you’re not very nice to me at night.”

“Of course not. You was trying to talk to me and shit.” Angel had his hair pulled back, somehow. Alastor could use context clues but it wasn’t terribly important for him to know.

“I wasn’t trying to have a conversation with you, you were having a nightmare.” Alastor corrected. Emphasizing with a point of his fork. He finished his breakfast with a wipe of an uncomfortably scratchy paper towel against his smirking lips.

“Oh.” Angel spoke softly. His fingers went to the unbuckled belt of his high waist jeans. “Shit. Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for dear.” Alastor replied. “Are you alright?” He got up from the table mechanically taking his plate to the sink.

“Yeah.” He scoffed. “Come on, I need you to get the hell out of here before any of my neighbors see ya.”

“You live in a trailer park.” Alastor went for the door nonetheless. But the idea of him being embarrassed was still preposterous. Angel complained dramatically with a loud groan. When Alastor got outside of the motorhome he noticed Angel had yet to come outside. He leaned against the coupe de ville patiently. A man, one of Angel’s neighbors he assumed, walked over.   
  


“Hi.” He greeted with obvious disinterest. Alastor looked around to ensure he was the desired target.

“Hello?” He waved stiffly. The man seemed insulted by Alastor’s presence, which was fine so long as he didn’t offend him. 

“Travis!” Angel jogged down the steps. They both looked in the taller male’s direction. He made his way towards the other man. “Can you watch Fat Nuggets while I’m gone?”

“Oh yeah, of course. Happy to do it.” His mannerisms turned warm. He was beaming at Angel. Completely enamored by each movement of his body. Alastor narrowed his eyes. Easy now. Don’t become a target. Alastor cleared his throat loudly. What was this? Jealously? Impossible. Alastor was the better of the two, clearly. 

“Oh right, shit. I gotta go. I’ll see you. Thanks again!” Angel did the awkward shuffle with Travis. He gave him a halfhearted shoulder pat. Travis looked as if he wanted something a bit more intimate. Angel grinned then went to the passenger side of the coupe, flinging the door open.

“Careful.” Alastor chided. Angel rolled his eyes. He waved at the guy again then went inside. Closing the car door cautiously. Alastor gave Travis another look for intimidation purposes.

“Friend of yours?” He asked before slipping into the driver’s seat.

“Don’t be an asshole.” Angel warned him in a monotone. “Jealousy isn’t sexy…” He trailed off. Alastor turned on the vehicle with a turn of his key then checked his mirrors. “Okay it’s kind of sexy.” Angel caved.

“You know what else is sexy? When you sit there quietly.” Alastor snickered.

“Nice try asshole. Any chance we’re not gonna listen to oldies today? ”

“Oldies are the best.” He said. Alastor merged onto the highway, making his way back to the motel. He didn’t dread the disposal of the bodies. He did let Angel take up a lot of his time. Part of him was frustrated by it, the other part was comforted to know they were back on good terms. Especially now that he had to get his journal from Angel’s brother, father, the mob. Whatever.

“Come on Al!” Angel started to whine. He could see his hand reach for the dial from his peripheral.

“I’ll break your fingers if you touch it.”

“What if I sucked you off?”

“Then I’ll break your neck.”

“You’re the fuckin’ worst” He bellowed. Alastor snickered under his breath. “That shit ain’t funny.” Angel complained.

“It’s pretty funny.” He retorted. Angel’s fingers rummaged in his purse. “Are you really cross with me over the music?”

“Yes! Ya like a dictator!” Angel replied. His fingers held his lighter and cigarette while he spoke. He moved his hands about theatrically.

“Fine, put on whatever terrible music you desire. But only because I’m not some kind of ogre.” Alastor conceded. Everything afterward was the sound of static. Angel suffered from terrible music attention deficit. One station played the grungy tunes. He did not find that acceptable. There was country between but when it was on the pop station Angel had finally been satiated. One of those rhythm and blues songs already in progress. Angel knew all the words. His free hand snapping his fingers while the other smoked. At least it wasn’t a song that was likely to be played in order to set the mood in the bedroom. Those were a rampant plague on modern radio. Angel was oblivious to Alastor’s internal criticism. He was busy dancing in his seat. “This sounds like a child.”

“The lil’ one singing is a kid but the other boys looked older.” Angel pointed his cigarette threateningly. He tapped the ash off out the window.

“Society loves to exploit children.” He remarked.

“Oh my god why can’t ya just enjoy things?” Angel asked. “It’s so easy and it’s free.” He sighed as if the commentary had vexed him. It was quickly forgotten. The chorus of the song had started up once more so he had resumed his singing. Alastor only allowed it until the song was done. He then went to the dial and turned the radio down.

“You’re exuberant for someone who overdosed the other day.”

“I mean… I guess.”

“Hopefully now you know when to say when, right?” Alastor began to pry. Easing into the controlling practices. It was all coming from a good place. So what it if was manipulative?

“I didn’t just do a bunch of shit. I was turning tricks and Val kept giving me shit.” Angel revealed. Alastor went silent with ire. Here he thought Angel had just been careless. Of course it was Valentino trying to incapacitate him. In his forehead, one of the veins against his temple began to throb. He could only presuppose the indignation would lead him to another kill. He could fit three bodies in the trunk of his car. Well, Valentino was a large man that could be cumbersome. “Al?” He spoked again. Alastor shook away his murder plotting fantasies.

“Hm?”

“I dunno, you did that weird thing ya do when you don’t talk for a little bit and in your eyes I can tell you’re pissed off but you’re smiling.” He rambled. Alastor forced a chortle from his throat.

“I am not angry.” He feigned assurity. 

“Mhm.” Angel dragged out the hum and nodded his head slowly. He didn’t speak on it any further. They were already at their exit and pretty soon after they were at Vegas Castle as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Angel didn’t wait for Alastor to put the car in park to take off his seat belt. His hands felt glued to the steering wheel. The taller male was out of the vehicle and leaning on the hood. Alastor exited at last and went to stand in front of the coupe. His hands in his pockets. Angel was scratching his neck softly, or so it seemed. When Alastor observed closer he realized he was picking at the lingering markings in his flesh from the night before. “Cherri probably has some concealer for the shit you did yesterday.” Angel placed his hands on his hips.

“Why hide it?”

“I never said I was hiding it.” Angel’s cranium lifted high with indignation. Alastor laughed in response.

“Don’t let any of those plebeians rough you up today.” He said with a bit of force. He used his index and thumb to pinch the tip of Angel’s nose playfully. His visage scrunched up. Angel shook his head until Alastor let go. It was very entertaining.   
  
“Don’t tell me what to do.” He stuck his tongue out at him in a childish fashion. Alastor shrugged his shoulders and went towards the main lobby of Vegas Castle, leaving Angel outside by himself. Surely he’d be outside by the time he’d come back out.

Vaggie had been at the front desk. Husk was came out from the supply closet with old plastic packaged soaps in tow.

“Good morning!” Alastor shouted with an excitable wave. Vaggie picked up the phone instantly and held it to her ear despite it not ringing at all. “Morning Husker.” He laser focused on the other male. His mullet was gone, in exchange for a neater haircut. “You-”

“You and the kid are around each other a lot.” Husk interrupted him without a remnant of guilt in his coarse tone.

“Why yes, what a queer observation to make?” Alastor said. He glanced outside at Angel, carefully smoking and probably letting his thoughts wander. “Anyway I-”

“So you’re not even trying to hide it anymore are you?” Husk continued.

“I certainly don’t understand what you mean.” He fought the chortles effervescing in his stomach. “Alas I’m not here to talk about that. I wanted to ask you about someone else.”

“You in love with him or something?” Husk was talented in being a broken record. Alastor’s eyelids lowered.

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Oh?” Husk put down the soaps on the raggedy end table by the window. “What would you call it?” He asked. Alastor inhaled deeply. Annoyed at the question but he could minimally entertain it.

“We have an existential appreciation of each other.” Alastor started to explain with the most finesse he could muster. “Our expressive friendship surpasses human classification.”

“Wow. That sounds like a very pretentious way of saying you love him.” Husk was grinning with a smug glance burrowing into Alastor. He found himself growling under his breath.

“Listen, that isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.” Alastor hurriedly intercepted Husk when he tried to get to the door. “You know that Valentino fellow? Where do you suppose he goes during the day while Angel and the others ‘make his money’” He inquired quietly. Husk’s thick eyebrows rose slightly up his forehead.

“He’s usually at the titty bar during the day. Why?”

“Hey!” Vaggie yelled. They both turned to look at her. “Not you.” She sighed when glancing at Alastor. “Husk, have you seen Nifty? Did she go home early or something?” Vaggie asked. Husk’s forehead wrinkled while he tried to recollect. Alastor stood there awkwardly.

“I honestly don’t know.” He said.

“Well I don’t know either. She didn’t make her rounds this morning apparently.” She frowned a bit. Vaggie looked frustrated by Alastor’s presence. “Can I help you?” She sassed.

“No, I don’t think so.” Alastor grinned.

“Okay great. Do you mind?” Vaggie waved her hand betwixt herself and Husk.

“No, of course not go ahead.” He retorted, still unmoving. Her eyes widened with wrath. Husk just had to intervene.

“I’ll go see if Nifty is around.” He declared. He stepped backward and leaned his body on the door to open it.

“Yes, please do.” Vaggie murmured. She continued to glare at Alastor. He couldn’t help but give her a friendly wave. It was the least he could do for the endorphins he received from annoying her.

**ANGEL 6 TH 1998**

**11:39 AM**

Angel picked up his head. He surveyed Alastor and Husk. They spoke inaudible murmurs by the entrance of the lobby. Secrets were never fun. His lips pursed as he brought his cigarette to them. The filter bent from the tightness. He sucked in the smoke then exhaled it from his nostrils. It always made his eyes watery but aesthetic was more important than comfort. Alastor must’ve noticed. He kept looking in his direction. He gave Husk a way too hard pat. Husk walked in a small disoriented circle. Their eyes met and it had been a little weird. Angel gave an awkward raise of his hand. Husk nodded at him and retreated completely. All the while Alastor was coming back over. That was just a twinge better.

“What ya guys talked about?”

“Oh nothing, catching up. Finagling a boy’s night out of sorts.” Alastor replied a little too confidently for Angel’s taste. His gloved hands went to straighten the collar of his jacket, like a doting father. Angel tilted his body a bit while sitting on the hood of the coupe de ville. He crossed his legs. “I will be here when you get back if that is what your concern is.”

“Nah.” Angel shrugged. He looked into Alastor’s dark brooding brown eyes and spoke no words. Nervous about leaning forward and kissing him without permission. He hovered his right hand by his cheek and slowly his fingers traced the air to his chin. Gently as if he were grazing his skin. “You’re not a detective.”

“What?”

“The shit you told me at Belagio? At the fountain! You’re not a detective!”

“Oh, you mean defective.” Alastor finally murmured.

“Yeah, that.” Angel smiled at him before lowering his hand.

“Thank you, Anthony.” He spoke softly to him. Alastor’s covered fingers cradled his. His thumb massaged his wrist.

“Hey, watch it.” Angel attempted to sass him in a low rumble. Alastor obviously hadn’t taken it seriously. He only smirked and let go of him.

“Now, off the car before I make you get off.”

“Fine.” He unhurriedly stood up straight. His arms crossing over his chest and hip cocked to the side. Angel held his gaze on him as he walked casually to his room. Alastor shut the door quietly just as Cherri’s van approached. She stopped short in front of Angel. The front of the van bumped him slightly. He staggered.

“What?” Cherri asked as she jumped out. Angel’s eyes narrowed.

“Alastor’s up to somethin’” He told her. Cherri’s eyebrows furrowed. She took her place beside Angel. Even stared in the same direction. The wall of doors being gazed upon like an intricate painting in a museum. There was so little information provided by the action in question. She didn’t speak after that. He realized she was probably bewildered by the declaration. That was fine. He knew what he meant and that was all that mattered.

* * *

**ALASTOR AUGUST 6 TH 1998 **

**9:45 PM**

Sure it was counterproductive but it was also essential. A simple twelve minute drive or that was what Husk claimed. The prostitute and the cleaning lady-Nifty- had to be disposed of. Not before he’d rid Sin City of Valentino. One less pimp. He’d be doing everyone a favor. Especially poor Anthony...Angel. Alastor’s familiarity with him was waning his sense of control. Were the two in tandem or was he using Angel as an excuse to be reckless? It could’ve been both. He washed up lackadaisically. The very bare minimum so he could move on and change clothes. Alastor slightly regretted killing the cleaning girl. On the other hand it was always terrible to not tie up loose ends. It was simpler this way. He wasn’t sure if he’d desecrate her body the way he did with the others. Maybe if he kept her whole it would be less gruesome for everyone in the hotel? And what of the mobsters who were trying to start a row with him? That would have to wait until later. Without his journal things did come across as scattered. Scribbling on stationary just didn’t cut it. He could also count that towards his impulsiveness. He continued to hack apart the strumpet’s body in the tub. The matter of cleaning to cover his tracks was next. His red tartan suitcase held all of the necessary tools for such. The method of transport would be awkward. Three bodies would surely be a hassle. A Gentleman’s club only referred to as ‘The University’ was where Valentino spent his time away from Vegas Castle. Hassling the employees there no doubt. Or recruiting, something lecherous and unsavory. That’s all Alastor needed to fuel his cause.

Sheets split into shreds. Unusable tourniquets for the trollop’s body parts. Not his best work. The other kills were neater. More efficient. Each tare reverberated off his eardrums. A contemptuous siren of his own negligence. He opened the door of his room then peeked at his surroundings. Alastor’s body leaned with each conscientious glance. A shiny black garbage bag concealed the severed remains of the corpse. A chorus of aesthetically pleasing sounds came next. Jingles from keys followed by the clink of the door being locked. The plastic of the trash bag shuffling and skirting against the leather of his gloves. The boot of his coupe de ville popping open and lastly the thud of the bag landing inside the trunk. Hopefully the housekeeper could be hidden away with just as much ease.

**+++**

This gentleman’s club was merely a stop along the way. The agenda was to slay the brutish Valentino then chuck the corpse somewhere. Perhaps something perturbing could be done before. Maybe he would remove his face somehow? That all seemed cumbersome. He quickly discarded the notion. Death would be satisfying enough. After he’d kill him he’d drive along Las Vegas Parkway for as long as he could. Find somewhere isolated enough then get rid of him. He could’ve simply gotten rid of his ladies before killing Val but he felt so eager. He had no desire to do anything else. The driver’s side window was rolled down slightly. Alastor reveled in the dry breeze that flowed about his swarthy face while his hands lingered on the steering wheel. Alastor was mindful of when his turn would be. The twelve minutes had almost been up. Along Western Avenue was where it was located. He made his exit, passing a 7-Eleven. He took note of it for later. Alastor looked to his right and to the street ahead of him periodically. It was clear when he arrived. Deserted. A parking lot littered by a couple cars. It was pathetic. He had to park his own. It was the bait. If Valentino wasn’t completely brain dead he’d recognize it. He slowed the vehicle to a stop and put it in P. Alastor looked at his eyes in the rearview mirror then at his suitcase. He never used guns. Not for people at least. Alastor liked to meander on how he would kill someone. Almost like a Rubik’s cube or a puzzle. There was a certain modus operandi. Clues that had to be solved. Sometimes knives were simply the default, other times? Other times he really got to be creative. Sadly, he couldn’t be too creative with Val. Not with such a last minute decision.

His preconceived plan had been: He’d wait for Valentino to leave the strip club. Once the hulking moron approached Alastor’s coupe de ville he would sneak behind him. Valentino was a man of goodly height so Alastor surmised he’d slice the back of his knee so at least he’d have the upper hand afterward. Usual stabbing spots, the neck, the chest, liver. It was child’s play after the first attack. Alastor took his eight inch chef’s knife from his bag then hid himself. Leaning his back against the back right wheel. How long would he wait? For as long as he had to. Preceding days put things into perspective. Alastor could sit around admonishing himself or he could take hold of his impulses. Within reason. What did it matter if he found himself romantically involved with Angel? A man ten years younger than him? He felt seen. Everything beyond that was an extension of that feeling. Like the feel of the first driving stab into a victim. Angel might’ve devoured him but he had been doing the same. Alastor wanted to ride the wave of that feeling for as long as he could.

It was a dangerous thing to become so consumed by thought. Alastor was venturing territory he hadn’t dare tread since he was an adolescent. Finding himself frozen in the spot for too long. Where did he go? His mother hated it. Finding him frozen in place. Hands placed on his shoulders and shaking him back to the surface of the earth. Sucked in to the present instantaneously. Only the soggy eyes of his poor shattered mama. Her countenance crumpled with disquiet. He didn’t much like making her worry like that. Being part of this plane was never simple nor was it effortless for him. If there were a list of regrets he’d admit? Most of the circumstances would involve with his mother. When he woke from his dissociative wanderings an audible crinkle of soles against sandy concrete indicated Val’s entrance. He turned his head just shy of the horizon behind his shoulder.

“Man, what the fuck you want?” He crooned. Alastor let out a laugh of disdain. 

“You know, you almost killed him.”

“So?”

“If you cared about him you would not kill him to make him subservient.” Alastor permitted his sentence to bite at the end of his tongue with brutishness.

“He’s my bitch. I do whatever the fuck I want to him. He does whatever I say.” Valentino rambled ineloquently. He forced himself to his feet. He walked the perimeter of the backside of the coupe. Soon he was standing behind Valentino who had so smugly let himself be unguarded at this time of night. “And you don’t get shit from him.” Alastor became bored with words. He swung the blade back then slammed it into Valentino’s shoulder. Valentino responded with a shout. Eyes searching for others to come to his rescue. There was nothing. Too late for him. Alastor forced the knife out of his flesh. He aimed to stab him a second time but Valentino’s long arm collided with his body, knocking Alastor to the ground. A lot of fight in this kill. His blade went into Val’s calf so he could be immobile. With his good foot he strained himself trying to kick Alastor. Alastor was too fast, understandably so, he had only fell. Val was actually wounded. In what felt like a flash he was crouched over Val. Being tortuous and cruel in where he sliced. How he was carved him. Taking entirely too long to finish the job. Alastor was reveling in the flinches. The spurts of blood that began to stain his jersey. Enjoying every angry grunt that passed Valentino’s lips from behind gritted teeth. He stood up straight then inspected his knife. Droplets of the pimp’s blood clouded the area of the round lenses of his glasses. He unfurled a pocket square from his vest to clear up the spots. A distant voice in his mind told him to lick the blood off. Alastor resisted. It would taste murky with hints of a repugnant aftertaste he rationalized. With his glasses off there was a trivial blurriness. In that small moment of vulnerability. Val must’ve sat up. He threw Alastor to the ground. His glasses flew out of his hands, as did his chef’s knife. Valentino’s hands seized Alastor’s throat then tried to squeeze. Gloved fingers felt around frantically for his weapon. This could not have been how it ended for him. All this time he had been so careful. Now? Because of cockiness? Because of an emotional connection? He had lost his way. Shame flooded back inside him like high tide waves. The only positive caveat was he never broke his code. He forced himself to sit up. He quite literally couldn’t take this lying down. Alastor could be proud of himself.

The sound of a gunshot piercingly resonated throughout the area. Valentino’s grip went limp. Alastor’s other hand felt for his glasses. He returned them to their rightful place on his nose. Three more gun shots. Valentino was officially immobile. Alastor slid from under him with ease and stood. When he rose his head Angel had been there. A derringer pistol held by both hands. Eyes wide and body shivering as he lowered the gun. Alastor ran towards Angel. He did the same. He leapt into his arms. Despite his height Alastor didn’t struggle in holding him by his thighs. His arms and legs wrapped around his form promptly. They amalgamated in the embrace. His heart drummed hard against his ribs. Alastor’s lips had to meet Angel’s in a saccharine kiss of triumph. A swelling feeling from the pit of his stomach multiplied. An expanding heat, a comfort that Angel could only give him. Alastor walked to the hood of the coupe to sit Angel down. Angel’s hands hovered over the sides of Alastor’s face. Index fingers pointing to his cheek and chin.

“Do I still owe ya now?” His voice whispered. His eyes opened. Angel stare up at him. His optics radiated a dazzling glow in the darkness.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course you do. I didn’t ask for that.” Alastor grumbled in return. He brought his gloved hand to the back of Angel’s head. Fingers slid through the white ended strands. He balled his fist and gave a gentle tug. His nose rubbing lightly along Angel’s as his lips grazed against the skin of his chin. He kissed the corner of Angel’s mouth. Afterward he went in without caution. Mouths opened wide to transfer the passion of their breaths into each other. As if Valentino’s body hadn’t been inert on the ground. As if they hadn’t be exposed, out in the open.

* * *

**ANGEL AUGUST 6 TH 1998 **

**10:00 PM**

He knew Alastor wasn’t going to go on quietly. Now that he knew Angel hadn’t been the cause of his overdose he could tell he was furious. Despite Cherri’s wishes he spent the majority of the day with her talking about it. Thinking of what he could possibly have planned.

“Don’t tell a fuckin’ soul about this alright?” Angel whispered. Seated beside Cherri in the passenger seat of her van. They passed a blunt betwixt them.

“Fine, Fine.” She sighed as if it would be burdensome for her. She was just being dramatic.

“So Al is like, a killer.”

“Okay.”

“No bitch like, for real. He literally like fucking murders people.” Angel slammed his hand on the dashboard for emphasis. Cherri nodded her head slowly at Angel. Her eye wide while she mulled it all over.

“Word?” Was her only response. A raise of her ginger eyebrow, her mouth sucking in the smoke of the black and mild wrapper. She attempted to pass it back to Angel. He furrowed his eyebrows and waved his hand at her.

“Yes word.”

“Okay, what you tryin’ to tell me Angie?”

“What if Al like, I dunno… Tries to kill Val?”

“Good. Finally somebody has the balls to do it.” She answered.

“Okay but what if somethin’ happens?”

“Are you like, trying to convince me to help you stop your boo thing from killing this fucking dude that I never liked? Cause it’s not going well.” Smoke cascaded from her mouth as her lips moved. Angel’s eyelids lowered from annoyance.

“Or at least drive me so I can make sure the bastard is fine?” He asked. Cherri sighed another time. She added volume to it.

“Fine.” Cherri spoke under her breath, putting the van in drive.

“Thank you!” Angel exhaled, throwing both of his hands in the air. The drive was silent. He didn’t want to save Val. He was more concerned for what it meant. What could happen if Alastor was successful, or if he wasn’t? He didn’t enjoy the biting awkward stillness in the van. Cherri’s cheeks were flushing pink with what seemed to be anger. Why was she angry at him? He put his hand on her shoulder as they sped towards Warren Avenue. Dummy vegetation concealing the parking lot as they approached.

“Here is fine.” Angel told her. He grabbed his purse and put a cigarette in his mouth out of habit.

“You want me to come with?” She queried in a small voice.

“If you want.” Angel looked her over.

“You’re not… Picking Val over me are you? Or your boyfriend?” Cherri’s words left her with a vulnerability.

“’Course not Cher. I love you guys- I mean.” He paused. “I love you. ‘Cause you know, you’re my best friend and I love you. It’s normal for me to love you and not in love anybody else ‘cause I barely know them. Yeah.” Angel rambled. His statements taut and his voice cracking. Cherri fought a smirk. She jumped out the vehicle and waited on him. He took a breath and left the vehicle. Angel and Cherri held hands as they snuck into the back of The University, looking for a good spot to spy. “Ya sure you can just keep your van here?”

“Oh yeah, nobody gives a shit.” She cackled.

Angel could only see Alastor’s coupe from their vantage point. Cherri crossed her arms and stood right by him while he snooped.

“Maybe he’s inside?”

“He wouldn’t go inside.” Angel told her. Cherri pursed her lips. She leaned dramatically to glance around the corner. They heard the sound of music a moment then the slamming of a door.

“Wait! Somebody’s coming out.” She hissed. She dragged Angel closer so he could look on. Val went directly to Alastor’s coupe for some reason. He glanced around with those fucking sunglasses on. Suddenly Al appeared. Their mouths moved but he quietly crept behind him. Angel flinched at the first stab. “Aw sick!” Cherri blurted out in a cheer. Angel swiftly covered her mouth then shushed her. The way Alastor moved fluidly. He taunted Valentino, so much that he took a small break. Before Angel knew it they were tussling and he was running toward them. “Hey! What do you want me to do?” Cherri shouted at him as soon as he took off.

“Go back to the van! I’ll find you later!” He responded. Cherri nodded then ran in the opposite direction. Angel’s fingers touched his gun that he kept in his purse. He’d never actually used it. Shot it in the air a few times. Scared some creeps and even showed it off to seem threatening. Truthfully he never used it on anyone. He hadn’t shot anyone in years. Being from a mafia family made it so he had the experience but this moment was the only instance he’d shoot to kill. Once had aimed the pistol at Val’s back? He shut his eyes and squeezed the trigger.

He woke from the shooting. Shaking. His gaze went from Alastor to Val. Angel wanted to cry. He also wanted to scream with joy. That was one way to break up with somebody. He ran to Alastor immediately. Overwhelmed by the fact they were together. Sharing something new, even if it was murder. Unfortunately, something else lurked in the back of his mind.

**+++**

He and Alastor lugged Valentino’s huge body to the trunk of the coupe. Both tossed him inside. Alastor shut it quickly. Angel wanted to eyeball the inside. He shrugged and leaned against the car. Alastor took wary paces towards him. He placed a gloved hand on his cheek. Angel instinctively put his hand on top of it.

“Now what do we do?” Angel inquired. Alastor’s smirk widened.

“We must rid ourselves of him of course.” He replied. Alastor turned his body away but Angel held on tightly. “What is it?”

“Did you mean what you said? The other day? About not wanting me to be dead?”

“Of course I did. I wouldn’t have said it-” Alastor stopped mid thought then shrugged. “I meant what I said then. That’s all that matters.”

“Would you want to go on without me?” Angel asked. He carefully shifted Alastor’s hand from his face. He aligned his brow with Alastor’s. Pressing their foreheads against each other and their mouths distance within inches. Alastor took his time in responding.

“I certainly wouldn’t be happy.”

“I want to ask you for a favor but I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.”

“There’s no harm in asking.” Alastor pecked his lips quickly then pulled back a little. Angel exhaled audibly. He held his stare on the other man.   
  
“I don’t wanna to go out from getting killed by some jagoff.”

* * *

**ALASTOR AUGUST 6 TH 1998**

**11:12 PM**

“You’re going to have to elaborate darling.” He told Angel. He removed himself from the embrace and walked around to the driver’s side. There were things that needed to be done.

“If I’m gonna die. I want it to be mine. Since everything else isn’t.” Angel trailed behind him in a frantic swoop.

“Angel what are you talking about?” Alastor’s eyebrows knit. He turned to face Angel who was just shy of begging.

“If I have to die. I want you to kill me.” At last Angel admitted. Alastor didn’t want to laugh in his face but when would such an instance occur? Angel was being dramatic. It was somewhat endearing.

“I’m not just going to kill you, what would I get out of it? I don’t care to walk this ball of dirt without… Someone I care for as much as you. You’d have to kill me as well.” He suggested. “At least we’d both have our own terms? Not just you.”

“I think I can do that.” Angel replied. He hardly saw that in their future. It was a firm covenant. An emblem of their loyalty to each other. Alastor put an arm around Angel.

“So it’s a deal. We’ll go out together.” With a tilt of his head Alastor kissed the skin of Angel’s cheek.

“We won’t give any of these mother fuckers the satisfaction.” Angel began to smile. Alastor rolled his eyes.

  
“I assure you. We are probably on no one’s radar. Now stop dawdling. We have things to do.” He started to pat Angel’s shoulder. He opened the door and jumped into the car. Eagerly waiting for Angel to get inside so that they could drive off into the night.


	13. Zombie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel decides he wants to get clean and Alastor wants to work on his vices but an unexpected tragedy makes it a lot harder than it is. You cut off a hydra's head? It sprouts two more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> TW: There's a lot.  
> Idk how to describe it? Taking advantage of a person who clearly has a problem? Predatory behavior I guess.  
> Main character death  
> Self harm  
> nonconsensual rough play, and pee. Shaming  
> and the s- slur.

**ANGEL AUGUST 7 TH, 1998 **

**2:14 AM**

His bare feet were propped onto the dashboard. He couldn’t recollect doing such a thing, not without Alastor fussing at him. Angel must’ve fallen asleep during the drive. It had been an exhausting day. He knew two things to be true. He’d killed Valentino. He made a death pact with Alastor. Maybe it was the lack of dust in his system? Dread quickly accumulated in his belly. He felt as if it was a valid gesture. He was done for. Somehow, he knew that for sure. The headlights of the coupe were on, illuminating Alastor’s back. He was driving a shovel deep into the sand. He tossed the gathered sand over his shoulder. Alastor’s face was poised in focus. For the first time Angel had seen him without that forced smile on his face. A stagnant neutral line that had been his lips. They pursed and his cheeks puffed out sporadically, as if he were whistling. Angel couldn’t hear it. He lowered his legs. His shoes were taken off for him. That was sweet of him. Once Alastor noticed Angel’s stare he began to grin. This one was more tired than anything. Angel wondered how he would kill Alastor when the time came. Something that wasn’t too messy. He held his gaze on Alastor. His shirt sleeves had been rolled up and showing those scars of his. The muscles in his neck flexed with each dig of the shovel. It weirdly got him hot and bothered. Alastor put whatever had been on the ground into the hole and started to fill it. Angel couldn’t see what it was. When he was done, he went back to the driver’s side and sat down. Manly musk didn’t smell too bad on Alastor. For the time being.

“What happened?”

“You fell asleep as soon as I started driving.” Alastor replied.

“Did we get rid of Val?”

“Yes, we disposed of him, among other things.”

“That wasn’t Val?” Angel’s voice raised. His index finger pointed out at the horizon past the windshield.

“Well… No. That was someone else.”

“Oh, my fucking god!”

“Oh, come now it’s not that serious.” Alastor replied. Angel shuddered. His arms crossed over his chest. His fingers turned the key in the ignition. The coupe roared in response.

“Now what are we doin’?” he looked Alastor over. Angel licked his lips. Eyeing the swarthy man as he pulled from their place on the sand,

“Going back to Vegas Castle of course.” Alastor turned his head a moment to look at Angel’s face. His eyes then revisited the road. “Do you need to spend the night?” Angel nodded his head in response. “Alrighty.” He gave a firm nod.

“Smiles, I’ve been thinking…”

“Oh dear. Do not do that! You’ll hurt that pretty little head of yours.” Alastor smirked.

“Ha ha asshole, very funny.” Angel’s lids lowered. He placed his hand on his own cheek while glaring at Alastor. “I’m being serious. I wanna go clean finally.”

“You do?” He replied with a hint of skepticism. Angel shot a furious look at the response. He thought Alastor would be ecstatic to hear such news.

“Yes.” Angel grunted. “I can’t have you killing everyone who gives me drugs. That’s like eighty percent of my social circle.”

“That’s why you want to get clean?”

“Well, I don’t like ya worrying about me neither. I wanna make you happy. Like actually happy not the crazy pretend Joker happy that you default to.”

“You shouldn’t want to quit for me. You should want to quit for yourself.” Alastor rambled in a mocking sing-song tone. His eyebrows raising up his forehead in condescension. Angel crossed his arms over his chest irritably.

“I hate myself.” He muttered. They both went silent. He could hear Alastor breathe in deeply.

“Well I don’t hate you. So perhaps you’re not as hateable as you think?” Alastor said. Angel sunk into the passenger seat. Was this an appropriate time to ask if they were in love? Was that too much to ask of someone like Alastor? He speculated that he should button his lip. Keep those feelings to himself, for now. That would be too much for one day. They already swore a death oath or whatever. Angel decided to think about why he wanted to be clean, if it were possible and who he would be doing it for, for the duration of the ride.

* * *

**ANGEL, AUGUST 8 TH 1998**

**12:05 PM**

The first day of sobriety annoyed him but he wasn’t jonesing yet. Alastor went on about his business, asked Angel to be gone for about an hour a day. Angel assumed he wanted allotted alone time and who was he to deny it? He smoked the day before and today. The only confusing aspect was Cherri’s absence. He looked up and down the parking lot. His eyes peeking at the entrance of Vegas Castle hopefully every couple minutes. A day without Cherri was reasonable but two in a row? It was terrible timing. He did want to talk to her about his decision, hoping she’d talk him out of it or set it to a later date. Each time he looked up there was no Cherri to be found. He grew weary of waiting. He couldn’t do an hour today, he just couldn’t. Angel tossed the lackluster bit of cigarette he had left and went to the room. He pushed open the door. Alastor sat in the darkness. He stood still, watching him drag the blade against his skin while he watched a snuff film.

“Oh my god.” Angel said loudly.

“What are you doing back so soon?” Alastor jumped up. He hurriedly pulled down his shirt sleeve, but the blood seeped through. At least he knew where all the scars came from now.

“What am I doing? Smiles! What the hell are YOU doing?” He shouted in response. Alastor turned off the television as Angel turned on the lights.

“I can explain. It’s just something I have to do every day-”

“What? That doesn’t explain anything! I have so many more questions! You do this every day?” Angel’s long legs stormed over to Alastor. He was struggling to get his words out.

“It isn’t as bad as you think it is.” Alastor attempted to speak quietly.

“What!” Angel yelled. “You’re watching some German dudes kill some lady and cutting yourself!” His hand waved at the television.

“I beg your pardon! I sharpen the knives before I cut myself.” He replied very matter-of-factly. Angel shook his head quickly.

“What!?” He yelled again. “Why?” Angel wasn’t sure why he was angry. In that moment he regretted yelling at Alastor. For the first time he looked like a child being hollered at. He remembered the feeling. Angel had felt it in spades, even in his young adulthood. He lifted his hand and let it float near his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Smiles. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He tried to comfort him. Alastor had a look of embarrassment overtaking his visage. His smirk faded and a repressed tear lingered in one of his eyes. “I’m sorry.” Angel repeated. Alastor nodded his head. He inhaled sharply and turned from Angel. Presumably to wipe away whatever vulnerability fixed on his face.

“I can stop.” He cleared his throat. Alastor tended to his other sleeve. Angel’s lips flattened against each other.

“You don’t have to.”

“No, I want to.”

“We’ll both stop. Okay?” Angel went to stand in front of Alastor. “Deal?” He smiled down at him. Alastor stepped forward into an embrace. He very noticeably breathed Angel in. Two different kind of addicts would get clean together. As far as Angel could tell? they could probably achieve it.

* * *

**ANGEL, AUGUST 9 TH 1998**

**1:00 PM**

Angel sat with his legs crossed at the edge of the hard bed. His fingers plucked a cigarette from its carton. Television on, volume at full blast for Alastor who had been ‘freshening up’ in the bathroom. Angel flicked his lighter repeatedly with frustration. He’d been watching the news willingly for days now. Waiting patiently for that grainy picture of Val’s disgraceful visage. Waiting for the newscaster to declare his corpse found. One of these days he hoped. Today perhaps? His eyes fixed on the static of the television screen’s glass surface.

“Good afternoon Nevada! Our top stories: A missing person case ends when a body is found on Las Vegas Parkway early this morning. Cheryl Broncheau had gone missing in spring of nineteen ninety six from Salem, Oregon. Cheryl’s parents had been trying to locate her ever since. Her body covered in lacerations, contusions. The county medical examiner also stated that marks on her body leads him to believe Cheryl was assaulted before her death. Once killed she was rolled up in a carpet and dropped into the desert. -” Angel’s eyes widened and he froze. The words of the newswoman echoing against his skull as the devastation sank from his heart down to his guts. Alastor’s feet padded speedily. The closer he got to the bed the louder his steps became. Alastor glanced between the television and Angel. His knuckles went white. He didn’t even notice that his cigarette was lit and was currently reduced to a cylinder of ash.

“Police suspect the culprit is the same individual who had been responsible for the other murders occurring near the strip. Cheryl Broncheau was nineteen years old. Her parents could not be reached for comment-” Alastor turned off the T.V. with a turn of the archaic button. Then he was beside Angel. His hands went to his shoulders and pulled him in. Angel’s hands were stationary on his mouth. Angel didn’t know when he started wailing. His fight or flight response blocked it out. When he woke? He was sobbing in Alastor’s arms. He was with Alastor the whole time, Cherri was dead but Alastor was not the killer. Someone was trying to set the two of them up. Angel felt as if a part of himself had died as well. His best friend was his other half, all he had in the world. Cherri always made that clear. Now he only had Alastor and what if he left him too? His nails dug into the fabric of Alastor’s prim dress shirt. He couldn’t stop himself from screaming. Alastor was incredibly supportive during the period. He didn’t reveal whatever repulsion Angel’s performance had stirred up inside of him. It felt like forever before he could find calm from the pit of his stomach. He hyperventilated. Angel was still. Alastor’s skin was frosty against his. He couldn’t do it anymore. He needed to use. Just one more time then he would be done for good.

**+++**

Angel felt guilty. He had no desire to steal from Alastor, but he also didn’t want to turn any tricks. He needed something. He went up the decaying concrete steps that led to the second floor of Vegas Castle. He scolded himself as he moved towards the all too familiar room that Vox took residence in. Surely, he noticed Val’s absence but Angel could act as clueless as possible if the subject came up. He drummed his knuckles on the frame of the cheap cool door. He adjusted his mini skirt. The sides of his thong pulled up dramatically on his hips to accentuate any enticement. A crop top too small for his chest. It only made his heart ache for Cherri. His shivering fingers tugged at the mini pleather jacket resting on his shoulders. The door opened, at last. Vox sported a scowl when glancing at Angel.

“What?”

“Can I come in?”

Vox looked up and down the stretch of motel room doors then waved Angel inside. He shut the door. His squinting eyes followed Angel as he idled near the bed.

“So, what the hell do you want?” He asked.

“I need to get wet; do you have any love boat on you?”

“Course I do. For the right price.” Vox rubbed his thumb against his index and middle finger and stepped closer. “You got the dough?”

“See that’s the thing. I don’t really have any money…”

“That why you came all dolled up?”

“Uh-” Angel whined as he lowered his head. Vox was smirking when he looked at him again. His heart sank. Vox walked to the curtains and shut them audibly. He locked his door and wandered about the room until he retrieved a camcorder. “What’s that?”

“You and me are gonna make a movie, Angie.” Vox told him. “Then you’ll get your drugs.” Angel held back the gag that threatened his uvula. “Sit on the bed.” He ordered. Angel exhaled and dropped onto the mattress. He assumed that he had started recording. Vox hovered with an eerie raise of his eyebrows. “Take off the underwear.” Angel wasn’t sure why fear powered his body. He nervously slipped off his thong. “How far can you stretch your legs?” Vox continued in an extremely calculated air. Like he had planned this, and he knew exactly what he had in mind. Like he’d been waiting for this day. Angel apprehensively lifted his leg until it was behind his shoulder. He covered his crotch with his hand. His heart pumped hard in his chest. Worried about his next request.

Vox had the camera glued to his hand the entire time. The demands were standard for a trick but, this was different. He was recording him now. Vox was decisively degrading. Slapping Angel whenever he whined. Pulling his hair. Calling him a shemale while shoving his cock into his mouth, spitting on him when he least expected. At least he didn’t come all over him. Angel cried a couple of times but not for too long. It was all worth it for his fix. When he stood from the bed Vox gave him an angry glance.

“We’re not done.” He said sternly. Angel rang his hands together quietly. He wasn’t sure what position he wanted next. “Take off your clothes and get on your knees in the bathtub.” Angel nodded timidly and followed suit. Just as he got into the bathtub Vox was there pulling the curtain back. His shorts were still unzipped. He took his soft dick out and resumed recording. Angel glanced into the lens of the camcorder then at Vox’s countenance. He frowned. Angel shut his eyes tight and folded in on himself. It was as terrifying as he surmised. Warm liquid squirted on his face and body intermittently. “You like this, don’t you whore?” Vox asked. Angel wanted to vomit. “You let guys piss on you for drugs. You’re dirty crack head bitch aren’t you?” The stream ended but the words had stung. Vox probably wanted him to say: yes. Angel opened his eyes warily and nodded. He wanted this to be over, but Vox extended each horrifying second of humiliation. More slapping and spitting. Forcing him onto his stomach so he could record himself slamming his cock into Angel’s asshole.

He seemed pleased with himself when it was all done. Even letting Angel shower when they were finished with their little ‘production’. He couldn’t scrub the shame away. He was convinced he was still smelling of Vox. Despite washing his hair and body three times over. Vox was weighing whatever white powder he was tending to.

“Can I use your phone?”

“Whatever.” He murmured. Angel sat on the bed and dialed Alastor’s room. Tears threatened the corners of his eyes as it rang.

“Hello?” Alastor answered.

“Hey, can you meet me on the second floor in like fifteen. We’ll take the elevator down?” Angel paused fearfully.

“Of course, dear. See you soon.” Angel exhaled with relief. He wasn’t sure what he was so scared about. When he hung up, much to his dismay Vox was in front of him. He gave him a penance of what he used to get from him. He snorted a pinky tip full. He didn’t want to use it all too quickly. Still he was furious from the tiny payment.

“If you want more? You know where to find me.” He smirked down at Angel with a malicious aura. Angel was sure he knew about Val now. He pocketed the rest and ran out. He couldn’t leave Vox’s room quick enough. The rickety elevator dinged and as the doors opened Alastor stepped out. Angel hurriedly put his arms around him.  
  


“Oh- Is everything alright?” He asked with a perplexed expression. He pulled back from the hug then stared at Angel. He wanted to shatter in that spot, but he couldn’t. He simply took Alastor’s hand and walked into the elevator. Pressing the button for the ground floor. Sure, he’d gotten ease for Cherri but now he had a whole new set of troublesome thoughts. His mind couldn’t stop replaying Vox and all the abuse he’d just endured. He put his hands on each side of his head. The PCP was not helping. He squeezed his eyes shut and hummed with distress. Angel had begun pacing. “Are you okay? Do you have to use the bathroom or something?” He heard Alastor inquire. Angel forced himself back into the present. He slammed the stop button. “Whats-” Alastor’s words were cut off by Angel’s mouth covering his. Between the kisses he attempted to speak but that wasn’t what he needed. He needed to push the thoughts away and create new ones. He pulled Alastor in by the collar of his shirt. The older man had to stop it all for his inquiries.

“Angel, this isn’t the proper place-” He started to admonish him.

“Al please, I need this.”  
  


“But in here?” He probed. Angel was already lowering to his knees. “What are you doing?” Perhaps his mind was clouded from the relapse or he was desperate for a distraction? It was surely both. His fingers were already moving to the zipper of Alastor’s slacks and nothing would deter him from pursuing a divine drink of his soulmate. He convinced himself the emptiness would be gone afterwards.

* * *

**ALASTOR AUGUST 10 th, 1998 **

**11:38 PM**

His back was pressed against the wall of the elevator. Alastor tried not to panic in the moment. He didn’t hate the idea of receiving oral from Angel. It was just so sudden. He didn’t get to ask him how he felt about his dead friend or what he was doing on the second floor. There Angel went, challenging Alastor’s normalcy again. The wave of questions almost dissipated when he felt fingers stroke his penis gently. He gasped from the sensation. Alastor’s heartrate went berserk, he hoped he would not faint.

“Don’t use your hands, please?” Alastor asked. It was not something he was used to. Instantly his knees were marmalade. Stimulation forcing him to harden with each stroke. Regret poured into him from the request. Angel’s warm soaking mouth slid slowly along the length of his cock. He could about burst if he were a steam pipe. “Holy hell.” Alastor whispered then slumped a bit. He threw his head back and released a moan. Angel brought him deeper and his head prodded his esophagus. His hands on his hips, steering him in and out progressively. Alastor steadily panted. Angel’s slurps picked up in velocity. One of Alastor’s hands found the back of Angel’s head. He didn’t get rough with him. He worried about potential disappointment. There was no way he could endure the pleasure for long. Angel made the most adorable sounds while his mouth was full of Alastor. He fully withdrew his mouth from his dick and let it rest on his face as he gulped his testicles with the insatiableness of a starving vagabond. Just when he knew he was done for? Angel had Alastor deep-rooted in his orifice again. The serendipitous sensation vibrated the entire structure of his being. A different sort of climax rippled through him as he came inside Angel’s taut throat. His breaths hardly stabilized when he was done. Alastor shamefully tucked himself into his underwear. He adjusted his shirt and zipped his slacks hastily, as if he had done something bad in the fashion of a youthful schoolboy. He wasn’t sure why he was panicking. He cared so deeply for Angel. What they had done wasn’t wrong or any different than what they’d done before. He pushed the stop button in so the elevator would resume moving. When they reached the ground floor and the doors flew open he retreated as quickly as his legs could take him. He went to the room door. He didn’t bother to wait for Angel. He was following him anyways.

“Hey, wait a second where you going!?” He put a hand on Alastor’s shoulder. He in turn swung around quickly.

“I swallow you whole and you run away from me?”

“I am not running away. I just wanted to get to the room as soon as possible.”

“Are ya mad at me?” Angel asked with a pout. Alastor’s brows knitted in suspicion.

“No.” He replied carefully. “I’m worried about you.” Alastor shoved the key into its slot and opened the door to the room. He stepped inside. Everything the same as it was when he left.

“Don’t worry about me! I’m fine!” Angel exclaimed. “Plus I had fun sucking your big dick. You had fun too. I heard you.” He playfully swayed his body as he trailed behind Alastor. Ah, he knew what happened now. Angel went and got high. He’d scold him over such when he sobered up. For the moment? Alastor only shook his head.

“Let’s just get ready for bed, hm?” He suggested in the most comforting tone he could use. Angel smiled at him. Ah, he was a sucker for that face. Alastor forced a laugh and led Angel to the bed. Just as he moved aside the comforter the phone rang. Angel plopped down and curled on his side. “Who could that be at this hour?” He asked himself quietly. He held the receiver to his ear.

“Hey asshole, remember me?” He heard the gravelly brooding voice of Valentino. Alastor was incredibly careful to not look alarmed. He slowly studied Angel then the wall. Struck into silence.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoy it so far. Yes I'll finish my SW fic but I like Hazbin a lot right now. Don't jump me please T.T


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